


Search for the Golden Serum

by pure1magination



Series: Pirate AU [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Alcohol, Almost Kiss, Alternative Universe - Gay Pirates (song), Angst and Humor, Asexual Clint Barton, Background Relationships, Bisexual Peggy Carter, Canon Disabled Character, Fainting, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), Little Mermaid Elements, Magic, Mermaid Asgardians, Mild Gore, Mild Sexual Content, Misunderstandings, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Pirates, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rape/Non-con Elements, Steampunk Hydra, Torture, Treasure Hunting, background frostiron, softcore Peggysous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:23:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 43,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3503234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pure1magination/pseuds/pure1magination
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Steve have been separated for ten years. They meet up again after Bucky is forced to join the navy, and his ship is attacked by Hydra. Steve and Bucky reunite and set out on a grand adventure involving pirates, merpeople, sword fights, magic, buried treasure, and, of course, true love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bucky’s hands were sweaty as he stood on the dock. He’d received his summons, right on schedule, ordering him to leave on ship number 107. He stared at the large metal hull glinting in the sunlight. Salty sea breeze cooled his face, coating his skin with a fine mist. The sun shone high in the sky, indifferent to whether this would be Bucky’s last day on literal earth before a stray bullet or a cannonball took his life.

The guy checking off everyone’s names as they boarded the ship seemed far less concerned. Bucky could see his cocky nonchalant expression from here. He despised the man on sight. The line Bucky was standing in was long and orderly, full of young men wearing similar uniforms to the one Bucky was wearing, predominantly navy blue and white, with big round buttons. Bucky hated the buttons. He hated the pressed linen, the way the shoes pinched his feet. He hated the dog tags around his neck with his name and his rank, his number. Bucky hated being given a number.

Only one bright spot came to mind about all this: somewhere out there, Steve Rogers was safe.

The military would never take a man like Steve Rogers. Bucky hadn’t seen him since he was eleven, but he knew somehow, somewhere, that Steve Rogers was safe. The kid had scoliosis, asthma, color blindness, a predilection towards colds, among a myriad of other ailments. According to a guy he talked to when he’d received his summons, Steve would have been rejected on his asthma alone.

“Name,” stated the bored, cocky man, looking at the guy two people ahead of Bucky.

Bucky didn’t like the set of that guy’s shoulders, the way his hair was blond and swept to the side, just like Steve’s, or how his eyes were blue like Steve’s. He didn’t like that he had a jaw like Steve’s. Any features that belonged to Steve, Bucky thought, ought to belong to Steve alone.

“Name,” stated the man again, just as bored, when it was Bucky’s turn. The man’s eyes were simultaneously disinterested and piercing.

“Barnes, James Buchanan.”

The man checked his list, made a mark, and gave his usual, “Welcome aboard. Name,” without even pausing between people as Bucky walked past.

If the ship looked huge on the ground, it looked even larger now that he was on board. Bucky had seen these ships from a distance, but he’d never wanted to be on one. Endless metal gleamed in the sunlight. Some of it was painted white, some navy or grey; some of it was left gleaming dull silver. There was rope everywhere, securing things Bucky couldn’t even name.

“Step lively, sailor,” requested a clipped female voice.

“Sor-ry,” Bucky muttered, annoyed, wishing he was anywhere else.

“What was that?” demanded the female voice, closer now, off to his left.

Bucky plastered an insincere smile across his face. “I said sorry, _ma’am._ ” The woman he found himself facing was gorgeous. Curves to die for, smart brown eyes, hair whose curls were just as orderly as her speech, and a slash of red lipstick marking her lips.

The woman seemed unimpressed. “What’s your name, sailor?”

“Barnes.”

The woman raised an eyebrow coolly. “Very well, Barnes. You are aboard a navy ship, and you are going to act like it. I suggest you stuff the sass, and whatever bitterness you’re carrying with you. Only half of these men enlisted; I assume you’re part of the latter half which was drafted. Nevertheless, we are all here now, and we _will_ be treating each other with respect. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly,” Bucky ground out.

The woman smiled tightly. “Now then. To the rear deck, Mister Barnes. You’re not quite done with basic training.”

Bucky groaned as he followed the bumbling crowd to the rear deck.

* * *

He discovered later that the woman’s name was Peggy Carter, and that she was a Lieutenant. This made her second-in-command to Captain Dooley. Most of the men aboard were shocked and confused that a _woman_ was second-in-command. Many accused her of screwing someone to achieve such a position; there were a lot of lewd remarks in the following days about Miss Carter and all the things she’d probably let randy sailors do to her.

Without fail, every time one of these comments was made around a dark-haired man with large ears and earnest brown eyes, he would angrily defend the lieutenant.

“Why d’you do that?” Bucky wondered aloud after one of this man’s outbursts. The man was still seething.

He turned his head sharply to look at Bucky. “Why don’t you?” he retorted. “You know just as well as I do that Peggy- Lieutenant Carter would never do that! She deserves respect! Not this—this juvenile _garbage!”_

“And that’s all it is,” agreed Lieutenant Carter, who was standing nearby. “Juvenile.”

The dark-haired man frowned. “Doesn’t it make you angry?!”

Lieutenant Carter smiled. “I know who I am, and that I earned this position, no matter how difficult it seems for most people to wrap their minds around. They’ll come around.”

“Wouldn’t you rather they respect you?!”

She fixed him with a steady gaze. “I expect I shall make them.” She gave them both congenial smiles. “Good day, gentlemen.”

And with that, she walked away.

The dark-haired man with the large ears stared after her, confused and awestruck.

“She’s somethin’,” Bucky stated, impressed, but also confused.

The man turned his gaze sharply on Bucky, defensive again. “Yeah?” He looked Bucky up and down. “You sweet on her?”

Bucky held up his hands. “She’s not my type.” It was still weird to him that he had to wear gloves now. He lost his thought train for a few seconds, staring at his white-gloved fingers.

The dark-haired man visibly relaxed. He was watching Peggy, aways off, giving calm orders to a small group of sailors, who all saluted her and got to business.

“…Is she _yours?”_ Bucky pried.

A third time, the man’s attention snapped to Bucky. “What?”

“Is she _your_ type?” Bucky clarified.

The man looked Bucky up and down, earnest eyes gone wary.

Bucky gave him an easy smile. “Hey, no worries. I’ve got me a sweetheart back home,” he lied.

The man relaxed again. “Yeah? What’s she like?”

“Back to work, gentlemen!” Peggy called in their direction.

Bucky and the dark-haired man got back to work. “Nothin’ special,” Bucky lied. At the odd look the man gave him, Bucky backtracked, “Well—not to anyone but me.” He gave the man a lopsided smile. “Bout this high,” he held up his hand to indicate a height a full head shorter than him, “Blue eyes, hair like fresh-spun gold. Eyelashes that go on for miles,” he gushed. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was describing what he imagined Steve would look like by now, figured Steve probably already had a dame… He was pretty sure Steve had never felt the same way he had, pretty sure Steve’s hand had never itched when they sat next to each other, just wishing he could touch him. Pretty sure Steve’s lips had never tingled when he watched Bucky’s profile, wondered what it would be like to lean in. “Stubborn as a mule,” Bucky found himself continuing, voice gone soft.

“She sounds like quite a woman,” the man stated, smile gone soft.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, covering up the mental pronoun correction and the wince that went with it. “She is.”

“What’s your name?”

Bucky glanced at him. “James Barnes. But my friends call me Bucky.”

The man offered a gloved hand. “Daniel Sousa.”

Bucky shook his hand.

At the time, Bucky had no idea how this casual acquaintanceship would impact his life. He was simply happy for companionship.

* * *

Bucky hated Thompson.

Thompson was one order of command below Peggy, but he acted like he was an order and a half _above_ her. Furthermore, the man was completely full of himself, and made rude comments to nearly everyone.

There was only one man he shamelessly kissed up to, and that was Captain Dooley. If Bucky were liable to make such judgments, he’d be inclined to think Thompson had a _crush_ on Captain Dooley. Rarely were the two seen without the other’s presence; they joked and laughed like they’d known each other for years. What’s worse, they both ignored Lieutenant Carter, for the most part, and brushed her off or begrudgingly gave, or responded to, her orders.

Sousa was fit to be tied.

That was another thing Bucky liked about Daniel; he hated Thompson just as much as Bucky did. “He acts like he’s _entitled_ to her!” he fumed. “Like he has a _right_ to say whatever he wants around her! He doesn’t listen to her at all!”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, “But what are we supposed to do about it? If I ranked any lower, I’d be a fucking janitor.”

“Language, Barnes!” Peggy lectured from several feet away, before returning her attention to the task at hand.

Both Bucky and Daniel paused momentarily to wonder how Peggy always managed to hear men swearing halfway across the ship. Bucky was puzzled; Daniel was impressed.

“-And you’re not much higher than me,” Bucky added.

“No,” Daniel admitted, “but it’s the principal of the thing! She’s his commanding officer, he needs to show her some respect!”

“You’re really big on the respect thing, aren’t you..”

“Yes! I am! Without respect, what kind of military would we be? Order wouldn’t be respected, rank wouldn’t mean anything- the whole organization could unravel!”

Bucky shook his head ruefully. The man reminded him so much of Steve. He could practically hear those words in Steve’s voice, even as Daniel was saying them. “Somehow,” Bucky said, “I don’t think the lieutenant is gonna let that happen.”

Daniel huffed. “Look, I’m not saying Peg—the Lieutenant can’t handle herself. Obviously she can. It just really steams by beans to see her treated like that.”

Bucky snorted. “Steams my beans?” he repeated, amused.

Daniel’s ears colored. “You know what I mean!”

“Yeah,” Bucky admitted, “I know what you mean.”

“What’s taking you ladies so long?” drawled the over-confident voice of Thompson as he crossed his arms and stared down at them.

“You know that’s not an insult, right?” Sousa retorted.

Thompson rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, Susan. Maybe if you weren’t so busy going on about women’s suffrage, you’d be doing your _job._ Do you wanna be demoted, sailor?”

“You mean there’s something _lower_ than maintenance?”

“You wanna find out?” Thompson loomed over them.

Bucky made a motion for Daniel to stop talking. Daniel glared at him.

“Didn’t think so.” Thompson turned on his heel and called, “Back to work,” as he walked away.

Daniel muttered something unkind about Thompson under his breath.

Bucky smiled.

* * *

Basic training hadn’t been so bad. Learning to care for the ship, learning how it worked, being given a walkthrough of daily duties, and running through battle simulations all ran relatively smoothly. The sailors were all feeling pretty confident and relaxed, now that they had the swing of things. They’d been out at sea a couple of weeks, and everything was going just fine. The ship hadn’t strayed too far from shore; they touched port every few days and gave the men the chance to sleep on solid ground, go out to drink at pubs, and some of the more reckless sailors sought out women, who were all very generous to members of the navy.

So despite having been out at sea for two weeks, none of them felt terribly homesick. Most of them didn’t even really miss land. Everything was going smoothly.

Despite Captain Dooley announcing that they were sailing out farther this time, that this was _not_ a test, most of the sailors were relatively unconcerned. Cocky, even. There was much merriment on-deck- singing, beer, slaps on the back. Units had coalesced, friendships and acquaintanceships had formed.

Nothing eventful happened until they were a few days out at sea.

There wasn’t a strip of land in sight. The sea was calm, the sky cloudy. The sun was setting, casting a red glow over the water. No one was expecting the call of “Ship ahoy!”

Several higher-ranking officers scrambled for the spyglass. They all talked amongst each other, voices hushed, brows furrowed.

“What’s going on?” Sousa asked Lieutenant Carter.

“We’ve spotted a ship,” she explained. She gave him a meaningful look. “We are not expecting a ship.”

“So it’s not one of ours?”

“No,” she agreed, and took another turn with the spyglass.

“Merchant?” Thompson asked, concern leaking through the cracks of his cocky exterior.

“No,” Dooley disagreed, taking the spyglass from Peggy.

“Man your posts!” Peggy ordered. Everyone scrambled in a less-than-orderly fashion to their battle posts.

There was another moment of conferring betwixt the higher-ranking officers before they dispersed and assumed their own posts.

“Ease up,” Thompson advised. “Don’t wanna spook ‘em.”

Despite Thompson’s cocky assurance, the sailors remained tense.

The ship pulled up alongside their. The name, boldly scrawled across the side in capital letters, was Leviathan.

“Steady,” Dooley instructed the helmsman.

A board was stretched between the two ships. A woman with blond hair, blue eyes, and a stiff upright bearing crossed the board. She smiled congenially at the captain. “Oh!” she said in an unexpectedly high, soft voice. “You must be the Captain. Are you?”

“Yes,” admitted Dooley, taken aback.

“You didn’t have to come on board to ask that,” Peggy pointed out.

The blond woman glanced at Peggy, a hand flying to her chest. “Oh, I’m sorry Lieutenant! It’s just, my voice doesn’t carry that far, and I really need to talk to you!” Despite her words, the woman lacked any sense of urgency. She seemed effervescent on the surface, but some unknown energy simmered just behind her smile. She turned her attention back to Dooley. “You see, we’ve been lost for an _awful_ long time, and I was just hoping you had a map or something?”

“Sure,” Dooley grunted. “I’ve got a map. Don’t know how much it’d help you in the middle of the ocean though.”

The woman blinked, smile freezing. “The middle of the ocean!” she exclaimed. “Well no _wonder_ I feel lost! –Oh, sir, is there _any way_ you could direct us to the nearest port? We’d be _so_ grateful.”

They’d been so perplexed by this blond woman asking them questions that the entire crew had failed to notice the dozens of women boarding the ship.

Sousa’s voice rang out suddenly. “It’s an ambush!!”

They attacked. All the women pulled swords from the scabbards at their waists. Dozens of men were killed before they even had the chance to unsheath their weapons.

The crew fought back, but they’d been caught off-guard. All of the women fought with such ferocity, ducked and parried and twirled with such skill. They fought with almost superhuman grace, and killed with an efficiency most of the crewmen had never seen.

Peggy was calling out encouragement and fighting for her own life, sweaty, a stray curl plastered to her forehead, when she noticed Sousa on the ground.

She wove through the crowd and pleaded his unconscious figure not to be dead. One of his legs, she noticed, had been chopped clean through. He was bleeding badly. “Daniel, no!” she pleaded. “Come on. Wake up! You’ll be okay. Just breathe!”

Bucky caught the sword over her head just in time. “Peggy!” he shouted. He parried with the woman. He was a bit distracted, though, by who Peggy was bent over. “Is he okay?” he asked after he’d dispatched the woman who’d nearly killed Peggy.

“I- I don’t know! He’s bleeding!” Peggy was trying, with shaking hands, to staunch the flow.

“Here, I’ll take care of him, you go.”

“But James—”

“Go!” Bucky knelt down next to Daniel. “I know first aid. You need to keep the crew together.”

“What’s left of it!” Peggy retorted as she stood up and wiped the blood off her hands.

He heard swords clanging nearby, and kept half an eye on the battle while he tightly wrapped Daniel’s stump in what remained of his pants leg.

The bloodflow slowed, but did not entirely stop. Bucky was regarding Daniel’s leg grimly when he felt air whoosh next to his face, and next thing he knew, he was staring down uncomprehendingly at his left arm, which seemed… _longer_ than usual, and wouldn’t respond.

Peggy’s scream of “JAMES!” echoed oddly in his ears as the world pitched sideways.

* * *

He was on a boat. His head was leaning against its wooden side. The boat wasn’t very large. The sea had grown rougher, or maybe it had always been that rough and he hadn’t noticed in the larger vessel. The little wooden boat rolled with each passing wave. He heard feminine breaths coming out harshly, off to his right. He was leaning to his right. He felt unbalanced.

Someone was rowing the boat.

His shoulder was propped against someone else’s, someone a bit shorter than him. The side of his thigh was warm and damp. When he looked down, he was dimly aware that the man next to him—his leg stopped halfway down.

The sky was a bloody purple, but the water in front of them was illuminated by something large and orange from behind them.

 _How odd,_ Bucky thought as the world went black again.

* * *

Bucky was on his back. When he opened his eyes, everything was weirdly green for a second, and then everything was way too bright. He winced, screwing his eyes mostly shut. He went to shield his eyes from the sun with his left hand, but it didn’t respond.

“Bucky!” breathed an impossibly familiar voice.

Bucky squinted at the shadow looming over him. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized he was staring into the beautiful baby-blue eyes of— at the slightly-too-large nose, the concerned eyebrows, the hollow cheeks with the strong cheekbones— _it couldn’t be._ “Steve?”

“Bucky!” Steve enthused, pulling Bucky into a hug. “It’s me! It’s Steve!” he announced into Bucky’s neck.

Bucky pulled him into a one-armed hug, numb. _Am I dead?_

“Oh, thank goodness he’s all right!” exclaimed another familiar voice- _Peggy-_ off to his right.

Steve had pulled Bucky into a sitting position. “It’s so good to see you again!”

Bucky’s face was slack with confusion. “Where am I?”

Steve placed his hands proudly on his tiny hips and jutted his chin up a notch. Before he could get a word out, though, a large man with a ginger handlebar mustache had clapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder and bellowed in a loud voice, “Good morning, sailor! Welcome aboard the S.S. Ruckus!”

Bucky frowned blearily. “Who’s that?”

Peggy had knelt on Bucky’s right and was placing a steadying hand on Bucky’s right shoulder. “He goes by ‘Dum Dum’ Dugan. And the smaller man, whom you apparently know, is Captain Rogers. They rescued us this morning after they happened upon the burnt wreckage of the 107th.”

Steve was still focused on Bucky with earnest concern. “Lieutenant Carter was just informing me that you were the one who bandaged Ensign Sousa’s leg. Our ship’s doctor said if it weren’t for you, Daniel would have died.”

“Oh,” Bucky said vaguely.

Peggy was eyeing Bucky with earnest intensity. Her hand tightened on his shoulder. “You saved not only his life, but mine. I almost thought I was too late to repay the favor.”

“What do you mean?” Everything was so strange…

The large Adam’s apple in Steve’s thin throat bobbed as he swallowed. He exchanged a glance with the large mustachioed man before meeting Bucky’s eyes. “You mean you don’t know..?”

Bucky shook his head slowly.

“James,” Peggy said in her most level voice, “You lost an arm.”

Bucky looked down at his right arm, which he _knew_ was there. His stomach churned. Light-headed, he turned slowly to look at the empty space where his left arm used to be. His face turned ashen.

“I’m so sorry, James.”

“Bucky,” Bucky corrected. He swallowed down the threatening taste of bile. “My name is Bucky.”

“Bucky,” she corrected in a soft, kind voice.

Eager for any sort of distraction, Bucky turned to her. “Where’s Sousa?”

“In the sick bay,” Steve answered. His voice had grown low and smooth with puberty, but nothing else about him seemed to have grown. Not as far as Bucky could see, anyway. “Both of you lost a lot of blood. He was worse off than you though.”

“But not by much,” Peggy corrected.

Steve granted that with a nod of his head.

“He’s awake!” announced a man who was running up the stairs from a lower part of the ship. “He woke up!”

Peggy stood immediately. “Take me to him,” she ordered.

The man, whose skin was dark, nodded and led her back below-deck.

Another odd thing struck Bucky. “How come no one’s wearing a uniform?”

Steve exchanged another glance with Dum Dum. It was a long one.

“We’re not exactly in the military,” Dum Dum volunteered.

That would have to do for now. Bucky was feeling weak. As his eyes slid shut, he was aware of thin arms cradling him, of long spindly fingers pouring water between Bucky’s chapped lips. Bucky hadn’t even realized he was thirsty. He drank until his stomach sloshed with water, then laid back and let unconsciousness take him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for this chapter:  
> -needles

Daniel’s mouth was dry. He had no idea where he was; a quick survey had indicated he was laying on a cot indoors, in a room which smelled of medical supplies. He tried to sit up, but found he was too weak. His head hit the thin pillow with a resigned thump. He wondered if he’d been taken prisoner by the women on the Leviathan.

He wondered if there were other prisoners, or if maybe there was something special about him. The mere thought almost made him laugh. There was nothing special about a simple ensign. If they planned to pump him for information, they weren’t going to get anything useful. He took a grim sort of comfort in knowing that if they had taken him prisoner, at least they hadn’t taken a valuable prisoner. As far as he knew, anyway.

He was just starting to contemplate this possible fate when the door opened, and in walked Peggy. “Lieutenant Carter!” he exclaimed, voice raspy. He attempted to sit up and salute, but nearly blacked out again.

“Daniel!” she returned, rushing to his side. “You’re awake! We almost thought we’d lost you!”

He frowned, eyes closed until the dancing black spots disappeared. “Lost me? What happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

Daniel shook his head. “There was this blonde lady. She was talking to Captain Dooley. And then— then everything was moving really fast, and next thing I knew, I woke up here.”

“There was a fight,” Peggy explained softly. “The Leviathan captured our ship. As far as I know, we’re the only survivors.”

Daniel managed to prop himself up on his elbows. “Just the two of us?”

Peggy shook her head ‘no.’ “James— _Bucky_ survived too. After you passed out, he.. tended to your wounds and protected you. But he got distracted, and he was injured in the fight.”

Daniel’s eyebrows drew together. “He was hurt because of me?”

“He was hurt because he was distracted. Don’t blame yourself.”

“If I’d been paying more attention to my surroundings and less attention to you, maybe I wouldn’t have passed out.”

Peggy rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. Everyone was distracted. That blond woman who was talking to the captain— no one expected her to break protocol. We were all thrown off.”

Daniel searched her eyes. “..How badly is he hurt?”

Peggy pressed her lips together. “Roughly as bad as you, I’m afraid.”

Daniel had yet to place a finger on what was wrong. “I feel all right,” he said.

“Probably because of the anesthetic,” Peggy muttered.

“Anesthetic?” Daniel cringed. “That bad huh?”

“I’m afraid so. Daniel… You really don’t know what happened?”

Daniel’s eyebrows creased. “No… Should I be worried?”

Peggy glanced at his legs, then back up at his face, lips pressed together. “You’ll pull through.”

Daniel searched her eyes again, concern curling up and clenching in his chest. He attempted to sit up again, this time looking where Peggy had been looking. His right leg was fine; it was his left leg he couldn’t feel. His eyes trailed over to it, expecting to see bandages or a cast.

He hadn’t expecting to see a sixteen-inch wooden peg where the lower half of his leg used to be.

His expression must have been ghastly, because Peggy pressed him gently down by the shoulder. “You need rest.”

“My… my leg,” Daniel said numbly.

“The doctors managed to save you, and the top half of your leg. They weren’t sure you’d pull through at first. They figured this was better than nothing; at least you’ll sort of be able to walk again. There’s a crutch leaning against the wall, for when you’re well enough to be on your feet again.”

“My leg is gone…”

“Only the bottom half,” Peggy corrected. “You’ll be all right.” She searched his eyes, emitting an air of reassurance.

“Do you need anything?” interrupted a smooth, friendly voice from the doorway. “Water? Piece of fruit, maybe?”

Peggy and Daniel turned to look at the tall, dark man in the doorway. He bore a friendly smile and a calm demeanor.

“Water would be nice,” answered Daniel, wondering who this was.

“Thought you might say that,” agreed the man. He poured a glass of water somewhere just out of sight and brought the glass of water to Daniel. “Gabe Jones,” he introduced himself, handing the water to Daniel. “Official ship doctor. How are you feeling?”

Daniel answered after several much-needed sips of water. “Light-headed.” He held out the empty cup. “Still thirsty,” he added in an apologetic tone.

“Sounds about right.” Gabe took Daniel’s cup and refilled it. Daniel emptied the cup once more, less desperately this time. Gabe waited patiently and took the proffered cup once more. “More?”

Daniel shook his head. “What do you mean ‘sounds about right’?”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Gabe explained. “You’re going to be light-headed and thirsty for a while, until your body finishes replenishing the blood you’ve lost. How’s your pain?”

“What pain?” Daniel answered with a tiny smile.

“Good. Let me know when it hurts again.”

“Will do,” Daniel promised. “As long as you’re in here. –I don’t think I could come out and find you if I tried.”

“That’s what this bell is for.” Gabe indicated a bell sitting within easy reach of the cot. “You ring that, and someone nearby will hear, and they’ll come find me.” He felt Daniel’s forehead and checked the pulse at his wrist. “Vitals seem all right,” he mumbled, “Pulse is a little weak.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Daniel worried aloud.

Gabe seemed surprised that he’d just said that aloud. “No, that’s normal. –Would you like something to eat?”

“I think I’m all right for now,” Daniel said, feeling tired.

“Very well,” Gabe granted. He pointed to the bell. “Ring that if you need me.” And with that, he left.

Peggy’s hand was resting gently on Daniel’s upper arm. Her head was turned towards the doorway where Gabe had just exited, giving Daniel a beautiful view of her neck. “Peggy?”

“Hmm?” She turned to look at him, as though snapping out of something.

“You said Bucky was hurt as badly as I am.”

“Oh.” She recovered. “Yes. He…” She paused, several emotions flickering across her face. “Bucky lost an arm.”

“Oh…” Daniel felt horrible about this.

“But it’s not your fault,” Peggy said quickly. “None of this is. Captain Rogers was very generous, taking us on-board. He even sent out a search party to check for other survivors, but we didn’t find anyone. Not a trace of the Leviathan, either. We don’t know if that burned or escaped. All we know is that the three of us are here. And,” she added, brows knitted, gaze far away for a second, “Apparently Captain Rogers and Mister Barnes are already acquainted.”

“Same training camp?” Daniel suggested.

“No…” Peggy had an odd look on her face. “I think not.”

A weird feeling settled over Daniel. “Friends before they got drafted?”

“That’s my guess,” Peggy agreed. She still bore an odd look though.

Daniel tried to guess what was off— not an easy task, given his current condition. “Do you know him?”

“What, the Captain?” Peggy seemed almost amused by this. “No. I’ve never met any of these men before.”

Daniel was trying to puzzle out what was causing that pretty furrow between her perfect eyebrows, but his brain was going fuzzy and his eyelids were growing heavy.

Peggy must have noticed. Her hand lightly squeezed his upper arm, and she leaned over him, stopping with her lips a few inches from his forehead. She backed away a bit and said gently, “Get some sleep, Daniel.”

He was nearly asleep before the absence of her fingers left a cool spot on his arm.

* * *

When Daniel next opened his eyes, he was not alone. The cot two feet away from his was occupied by someone who was thrashing about, teeth chattering. The man was making strained, desperate noises. The doctor—Gabe— and a short, scrawny blond man were forcing the man down into the bed and tying him to it. The blond man was muttering apologies the entire time, saying something about how he “can’t lose you again.”

Daniel realized the thrashing figure was Bucky.

He sat up a bit. “Is he all right?”

“Wound got infected,” ground out Gabe, narrowly missing a brutal kick aimed at his crotch. It took all his strength to force down Bucky’s leg and tie it to the mattress.

“But he’s going to make it!” insisted the blond man with a surprisingly deep voice. “He has to!”

“He’ll be all right,” Gabe reassured without sounding entirely certain.

“He has to be!” insisted the blond man. “Bucky,” he pleaded. “Bucky, it’s okay. You’re going to be all right.”

Bucky just screamed and strained at his restraints, teeth chattering. His clothes were soaked through with sweat.

“I’m sorry to have to do this,” Gabe said, holding a syringe in one hand, “You’ll thank me later.” He injected the needle into Bucky’s clenched thigh.

As Gabe straightened and wiped off the tip of the needle, Bucky’s form eased. His muscles stopped straining.

“How long is it going to last?” the blond man asked.

“Can’t say for sure,” Gabe answered. “Maybe six, seven hours. Depends on his metabolism.”

The blond man had wiped the sweat off his own brow and was gently wiping the sweat off of Bucky’s brow with a handkerchief. He touched Bucky as though he was extremely fragile and precious, like a rare flower.

“Shall I tell Dugan he’s in charge for now?” Gabe asked quietly.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” the blond man promised.

Gabe considered this before he left the room.

Daniel watched the blond man slowly finish dabbing the sweat from Bucky’s face and neck. His hand lingered in the crook of Bucky’s neck, as though he couldn’t quite bear to let go. Daniel felt as though he was intruding on a very private moment when he asked, “So you’re the Captain?”

The man startled slightly, as though he’d honestly forgotten he and Bucky weren’t the only two people in the room. “Yes. Captain Steve Rogers.”

“Then why aren’t you wearing a captain’s uniform?”

Steve glanced at Bucky, then up at Daniel, eyes blue and earnest. “Because this isn’t a navy vessel. We’ve…” He pondered this next word for a moment, brow furrowed. “Deflected,” he settled.

“So you _were_ navy, but now you’re not?” Daniel pried warily.

“They were,” Steve said, presumably in reference to his crew. “I wasn’t.” He pulled himself up to his full height, which couldn’t have been more than five-foot-five with shoes. “But there’s no need for you to be anxious about that. I trust this crew with my life.”

Daniel offered him a half-smile. Something about Captain Rogers put him at ease. “I’m not worried,” he said honestly. “Just wondering whose side you’re on.”

“The right side,” was all Steve said before bidding a silent goodbye-for-now to Bucky and heading for the door. “We’re heading to a port with medical facilities. They’ll be able to help both of you there.” He spared a glance at Daniel, and a lingering glance at Bucky, then left.

* * *

The next few days were a bit of a blur for Daniel. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed; he woke up at irregular intervals, sometimes in the middle of the day, sometimes in the middle of the night. His appetite came back, but all he wanted to eat was sweet and wet- fruit, oatmeal, gelatin- and he drank an inordinate amount of water. Gabe didn’t seem at all bothered by this; he seemed to calmly expect whatever Daniel asked for next.

Bucky woke up at odd intervals too. Daniel always knew when Bucky was awake, because he’d hear the most terrifying, most pitiful noises struggling out of the throat adjacent to him, hear the thrashing begin, feel the panic filling the room.

Daniel would always ring the bell, Gabe would always appear, and usually Captain Rogers was right on his tail. Gabe would sedate Bucky, Steve would mutter fervent apologies to Bucky and stay with him until after he was asleep, Gabe would ask Daniel if he needed anything, Daniel usually said no, Gabe would leave, and a few minutes later, Steve would tear himself from Bucky’s side and leave as well. Daniel was beginning to get the feeling that there was more to Steve and Bucky’s relationship than he knew.

Peggy visited. She seemed confident and self-assured as ever, would update him on minor amusing things that’d happened with the crew. She spent a lot of time with a jolly-sounding man named ‘Dum Dum’ Dugan. Daniel was just a bit jealous of how often Dum Dum made her laugh. But from the sounds of it, Dum Dum made _everyone_ laugh. He wished he could meet these people instead of just hearing about them, but he was still too weak to venture outside of the room.

He was pleased that she usually came to visit _him,_ and not Bucky, although she did usually give Bucky a kind squeeze on the shoulder as she walked past, but he suspected this might be because he was invariably unconscious when Peggy would visit.

Still. Peggy set aside some of her time just to speak to him, to check up on him and see if he was okay. And she always seemed happy when she did. It wasn’t much, but he was glad for it regardless.

By the time they sailed into port, Daniel was able to stand, with difficulty. He leaned heavily on his crutch and was still a bit light-headed. His left leg was lighter than it used to be.

Bucky had to be carried out on a stretcher.

They were transported to a hospital. Daniel had little time to survey his surroundings as they rushed past. The town was bright and colorful, bustling with a mishmash of interesting people. Many were handicapped, most were attired in bright colors or mismatched clothing, and the majority of them seemed lively and eccentric. The conversations they were rushing past must have been fascinating; Daniel wished he wasn’t missing out on all of them.

Another odd thing was that everyone seemed to know Captain Rogers and his crew. Familiar greetings were exchanged every time they slowed or stopped. Captain Rogers and his crew seemed entirely at ease. Well- except that the Captain was still very much worried about Bucky.

The hospital was also bright and colorful. Once the receptionist saw Captain Rogers, he and company were rushed past the waiting patients into the back room where the doctor was waiting for them.

Bucky was wheeled away on a stretcher. Captain Rogers left with him.

Gabe accompanied Daniel to another room, where he waited for a few minutes before a nurse came in with a clipboard and checked his vitals. She scribbled things down on her sheet, asked him a few simple questions, poked and prodded at the point where his leg closed in a wooden cup, right before the peg began. “It all looks good,” she said, straightening. “The leg’s gonna take some getting used to, but you are good to go!” She smiled brightly.

“Thanks,” Daniel glanced at her nametag, “Marge.”

“You’re welcome! Do you need me to show you out?”

“That would be kind of you,” Gabe affirmed.

“Right this way.” Marge led them to the waiting room, where Gabe and Dum Dum and the others were waiting.

“Thank you,” Gabe said before Marge smiled brightly again and called out another name on her clipboard. A relieved-looking old woman hobbled to her feet. Marge led her back into the hospital wing, door closing behind her.

* * *

Everyone was worried about Bucky. The crew hadn’t known him long before he’d been sent to sick bay. But they’d all seen the way he and Captain Rogers looked at each other, and if Captain Rogers was worried, so were they.

Daniel still felt guilty about Bucky getting hurt on his behalf. But he kept these thoughts to himself, because every time he voiced them, Peggy insisted it wasn’t his fault.

Dum Dum tried to cheer them up by regaling tales of goofy situations he’d gotten himself into, and to be fair, he did make them chuckle. But for the most part, they remained worried and tense.

When Captain Rogers reappeared, looking haggard, eyes downcast, everyone rose to their feet and surged towards the Captain.

Captain Rogers held up a tired hand to stop them.

“How is he?” asked Dugan.

Captain Rogers chewed his lip. “He’ll live.”

A collective sigh of relief swept through the group.

“But they have to amputate the infected portion. And he’ll have to stay here for a few days.”

Tense looks were exchanged.

Dugan tried a grin. “Well hey!” he suggested in his booming voice. “We could all use a few days at port! Rest up, drink some beer,” he suggested.

“Yeah,” Captain Rogers agreed, not looking at all up for it.

“But first we could use some rest,” Peggy suggested. Captain Rogers looked extremely grateful for this suggestion.

“No one wants drinks?” Dugan pouted.

“I could use one,” offered Daniel.

“Daniel, you can barely walk!” objected Peggy.

“Drink won’t exactly make it worse,” Daniel quipped.

“Yes it will! You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I’ll help him walk,” Dugan volunteered.

“You’ll be so stumbling drunk, you won’t be able to walk yourself,” grumbled Gabe.

Dugan unleashed a roaring belly laugh and clapped Gabe on the back too hard. “True!” he admitted.

“Guess I’d better come too,” Gabe relented.

Dugan beamed.

“And I,” volunteered Falsworth.

“Me too,” added Morita.

Captain Rogers gave his crew a rueful smile. “Well, if all of you are going, I guess I’d better go too.”

“There’s a good lad!” Dugan boomed.

* * *

Dugan got just as stumbling drunk as Gabe said he would. Dugan grew impossibly louder and more jolly when he was drunk. Daniel couldn’t help liking him.

Neither, apparently, could the ladies of the tavern, which surrounded Dugan like a wreath.

“How come I don’t get that kind of attention?” Daniel joked.

Peggy rolled her eyes. “Because you’re not roaring drunk?”

“If being drunk would make me that popular, I’d drink more often.”

Peggy gave him a guarded, disapproving look.

Most of the crew grew jollier when they were drunk. Gabe was having a fluent conversation with one of them in French. He was by far the most sober of them all; he insisted on drinking responsibly.

Captain Rogers was the second most sober of them all. No matter how much he drank, it didn’t seem to affect him. The crew enjoyed testing him on this, asking him trivia questions or betting they could do something more accurately than Steve could—throwing darts, for example. That turned out to be a disaster.

Daniel was surprised that Peggy allowed herself to get a bit tipsy. He was further surprised that she was just as competitive as the Captain when she was tipsy. The two kept facing off at various contests designed by the crew. Peggy won most of them. Steve seemed enchanted by this, which made Daniel both warm towards Steve and feel a twinge of jealousy towards him.

By the end of the night, though, Gabe was helping Dugan to stumble out of the bar, Captain Rogers was walking out in front of the group- walking so straight it was as though he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol- and Daniel was stumbling with his crutch next to Peggy. She kept offering to help him walk. “No, no, I got it,” Daniel insisted. And he tripped a few times, but he always managed to catch himself.

The place they stayed at for the night was like a hotel.

Daniel would wonder the next morning why a bunch of men who seemed so recognized and welcome would be staying in a hotel, instead of in a home, but this wouldn’t occur to him for several hours, given he was currently falling asleep in an alcohol-induced haze, head pleasantly buzzing.


	3. Chapter 3

For days, all Bucky knew was a seemingly endless cycle of searing pain, weird unsettling noises, and a slow descent into fuzzy nothingness. He knew he screamed for Steve, but he was never sure whether anyone could hear him.

One day, he felt consciousness tugging on the edge of his brain, and he was relieved to wake up on solid ground.

There was a cot beneath him. He was in an unfamiliar room. And he was alone.

The room smelled of medicine, but just under that was a sickly smell, almost rotten. He wrinkled his nose. He tried to sit up, and remembered again that he only had one arm. Well, Bucky was determined not to let that stop him. “Steve?” he croaked.

No one answered.

He knew he wasn’t dead; he’d never really believed in an afterlife anyway. If there was one, it sure as heck wouldn’t start in a hospital room. “Steve,” he croaked again, louder.

A bright-eyed nurse came in. “Good morning, Mister,” she checked a sheet of paper, “Barnes.”

“Good morning,” he waited until she was close enough to see her nametag, “Marge.”

“How’re you feeling?” Her smile was bright, her eyes cautious.

“Like death warmed over.”

She laughed quietly and marked something down on her clipboard. “The doctor will be in to see you shortly. Can I get you anything? Glass of water?”

“That’d be nice.” His throat was sore and scratchy.

“Be right with you.” She ducked out of the room and was gone for a brief moment before returning with a glass of cool, clear water. Bucky drank gratefully.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked with the air of a pleasant waitress that wanted her shift to be over.

“Steve?”

Marge smiled sympathetically. “I’ll see what I can do.” He half-believed she was really going to get Steve when she exited the room.

Bucky tried to remember the last thing that happened. He’d been on a boat… Steve had been there, impossibly, just as serious and strong-willed and honest as Bucky remembered. Steve had said something vague about how he ended up Captain, something about the old captain gaining respect for him and passing on the mantle, but the whole thing’d sounded fishy and like Steve was leaving a lot of stuff out.

He remembered Daniel being unconscious, and Peggy fretting about his arm. Saying she felt partially responsible. Bucky certainly didn’t mind being indebted to Peggy. She reminded him of Steve. Daniel reminded him of Steve.

Bucky really missed Steve.

The doctor came in. “Good morning, Mister Barnes. How’s the arm?” he said casually, as though Bucky hadn’t been suffering some unspoken level of Hell for the past who-knows-how-long.

“Apparently absent,” Bucky replied.

“You don’t remember losing it then?”

Bucky pulled a face. “I remember.”

“Good.” The doctor bent over to examine the stump— which was smaller than Bucky remembered, not that Bucky remembered it very clearly. The whole limb suddenly felt alien. “Are you in any pain?”

“Nope.”

“Excellent.” The doctor marked something down. Stuck a thermometer in his mouth. “Hold please.”

Bucky waited begrudgingly for the thermometer to take its reading. He watched the mercury slowly rise, ticking past 96… 97… 98…

He was relieved when the doctor removed it. The doctor made a non-committal humming noise and announced blandly, “Fever’s gone down.” He wiped the thermometer clean. “Can you read that chart across the room?” The doctor indicated a chart with different-sized letters on it, all of which Bucky could make out clearly.

“Course I can. The problem’s with the _arm,_ not my eyesight.”

“Would you please read off the smallest row you can see?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and read off the bottom row. The doctor marked something else down. “Very good,” he said in his calm, bland voice. He smelled like rubber gloves and antiseptic cleaner. “Wait here.”

 _For what?_ Bucky wondered, but the doctor had already gone.

He was getting antsy and wondering what he was waiting for when Steve burst in. “Bucky!”

Relief washed over him, followed closely by anticipation. “Steve!”

Steve rushed across the room and closed the distance between them in an enthusiastic hug. He didn’t seem to care that his knees had knocked against the cot, or that Bucky could only hug back with one arm, or that Bucky was squeezing too tight. “Bucky, I thought—! I thought—!”

Bucky longed to wrap both arms as tight around Steve as he possibly could, but he only had the one. It wasn’t enough. He wrapped his legs around Steve and gave him a full-body squeeze.

Steve hugged him tighter.

“’m all right, Stevie.” He nuzzled Steve’s hair. “’m all right.”

Steve unexpectedly let go and punched Bucky in the chest. “Never scare me like that again!”

Bucky was taken aback. “What, it was _my_ fault my arm got chopped off?”

“No! –Maybe. Bucky, I thought you _hated_ the navy! Why did you join?”

“Ever hear of drafting, genius?”

Steve huffed.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Bucky complained, sounding a little hurt. He threw in a pout for good measure.

“Of _course_ I’m happy to see you, Buck! I’d just rather it hadn’t been a near-death experience!”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Steve, your entire _childhood_ was a near-death experience.”

That shut him up. His lips pressed together. He looked down.

Bucky sighed. He drew Steve back against his chest with his one arm. “’m glad to see you, punk.”

“Glad to see _you,_ jerk.” Steve hugged him back.

“Where’ve you _been?”_

Steve hesitated. “Sailing,” he said vaguely.

Bucky backed away enough to give him an incredulous frown.

Steve pressed his lips together and thought for a moment. “It’s a long story,” he relented. “I’ll tell you once you’re out of here.”

“Yeah? And how long is _that_ gonna take?”

Steve smirked. “As long as it takes your lazy ass to get out of bed and follow me down the hallway. –The doctor said you’re free to go.”

Bucky got to his feet. “Why’d he tell you and not me?”

Steve shuffled his feet. “I… _may_ have said I was your caretaker. Or something like that.”

“Steve…” Bucky said in his disapproving tone.

Steve held up his hands. “Just in case you couldn’t take care of yourself. He said it might be difficult for you to take care of your arm, that it’s kind of an awkward reach. –I’ll brief Gabe on it when we get back to the hotel.”

“Hotel,” Bucky echoed as he followed Steve down the hallway. Someone hacked in one of the rooms they were passing. “Where the hell are we?”

“Friendly port,” Steve answered vaguely.

“What, as opposed to an _un_ friendly port? –Steve, are you not telling me something? Because I’m getting the feeling you’re not telling me something.”

“This way, Buck,” Steve non-answered, leading Bucky out of the hospital.

* * *

Steve hadn’t given any more answers on the way back to the hotel. Bucky had eventually clenched his own jaw shut and given up trying to pry open the clam that Steve had enclosed his information in, for the meantime.

Instead, Bucky had turned his attention to the town they were walking through. Bright clothes, vibrant colors, people of varying degrees of—from what Bucky could tell— _sanity._ Some of them were dressed quite oddly. Some spoke too loud. Some had body parts missing. It was like an entire town full of misfits.

“…Steve, where the hell _are_ we?” he muttered as they entered the hotel. The hotel was also brightly colored, and the staff was just as interesting as the rest of the town.

“Among friends,” was the only answer Steve would give. He waved to the receptionist, who was wearing an obnoxious over-sized bowtie in a polka-dot pattern that would never go with _anything_ , and led them up some stairs and down a hallway. He knocked on a door.

“Password,” grunted a voice behind the door.

“Eagle,” Steve replied.

There was a moment of silence.

 _“Is that the password?”_ the voice hissed to someone unseen behind the door.

They could practically hear Gabe rolling his eyes as he answered, “If he said Eagle, then yes. Tell me again why Dugan is the one who always uses the passwords?”

“Shut up. It’s hard to remember ‘em.” Dugan opened the door and smiled a bit bashfully at Steve. His eyes lit up when he saw “Bucky!” He stepped aside to let him enter, then enveloped him in a sudden bear hug. “You’re all right!”

Bucky let out a muffled sound against Dugan’s cushy shoulder.

“Bucky?” said the familiar voice of Daniel as he hobbled over. Bucky was surprised to see him working his way towards them on a peg leg and a crutch.

“They gave you a _wooden leg?”_

Daniel finished hobbling over. “It takes some getting used to, but it’s better than nothing,” he admitted. He stuck out his free hand.

Bucky took it, confused.

Daniel clasped his hand. “I owe you one, pal.”

Bucky snorted. “Don’t owe _me._ Owe _Peggy._ She’s the one that carted our sorry asses across the ocean.”

“Language, Mister Barnes,” Peggy mock-lectured with a smile. “Glad to see you’re feeling well. Daniel’s been quite beside himself.”

Bucky shot a surprised look at Daniel, who colored a bit. “It was partially my fault,” he said sheepishly. “If I’d been paying closer attention, you wouldn’t have been injured.”

Bucky shrugged. “Yeah well, I could say the same thing. What do you say we all just got each other’s backs and leave it at that?”

Peggy smiled warmly at him. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”

Bucky was just beginning to smile back when he felt two pairs of eyes on him; Daniel’s were sharp with warning, Steve’s, he couldn’t see, but he felt an overwhelming wave of possessiveness from his direction. Peggy turned her smile on Steve, and her eyes sparkled with a _knowing_ look that Bucky couldn’t quite place. The next thing he felt from Steve was embarrassment. Bucky turned to look at Steve. He felt Daniel’s eyes release him from their warning gaze. Steve was blushing and looking at the floor. Bucky wondered why Steve was blushing. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask.

Dugan glanced back and forth between the three of them. “Great.” He was picking up on the underlying tensions, but he had no idea what they meant. Or perhaps he knew _exactly_ what they meant, and that’s why he was uncomfortable. “Who’s hungry?”

* * *

They hadn’t been in port long before Dugan and the others grew restless. The crew began whining to Steve about wanting to go back out to sea.

Steve was just as eager to leave.

During dinner that night, Steve reassured himself and the others that Bucky was all right. No one was much worried about Daniel anymore; he still wobbled, but his wound was healing very well. Bucky told Steve confidently, over a mouthful of seafood, that he was fine.

Once Steve was convinced, that was that. He quieted the crew by standing with a serious look on his face and announced, “Tomorrow… We set sail!”

This encouraged a rousing cheer. Glasses clinked all around the table. Dugan ordered another round of drinks.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” asked Sousa, eyebrows knit.

Bucky was surprised by the concern in Sousa’s earnest brown eyes. “Yeah, I’m all right.” He set his drink down and punched Sousa lightly in the shoulder. “Quit worryin’!”

“Daniel,” Peggy said, from her seat on Sousa’s left. He turned his head; she raised her eyebrows and gave him a meaningful look.

Daniel relaxed and said “You’re right.”

Bucky had no idea what that meant, or what he was referring to. He turned to Steve.

Steve had somehow wound up in a contest with Dugan; they were both chugging beer. Falsworth, Morita, Pinkerton, and Dernier were all chanting “Chug! Chug! Chug!” and pounding on the table. Bucky watched the trail of beer foam dribble down the side of Steve’s chin and down his scrawny neck while his large Adam’s apple bobbed repeatedly and his head slowly tilted further back. Steve slammed down his empty mug with a triumphant gleam in his eye. Dugan slammed his down a few seconds later and wiped the foam off his mustache. He was grinning. “Well done, Captain!” he boomed, clapping him on the back so hard Steve’s chest knocked against the table.

Steve gave a wobbly smile and hiccoughed.

Everyone laughed.

“I didn’t know you had it in ya!” Bucky congratulated, equal parts impressed and chagrined.

Steve gave him a smug look. “Ain’t a buccaneer for nothin’!” His words slurred a bit.

Bucky leaned in close, his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “You gonna be all right?” he asked quietly.

Steve muffled a belch. Dugan found this deeply amusing.

“I’ll be fine, Buck.”

Bucky’s thumb rubbed the nearly-pointy part of Steve’s shoulder. “You sure?” He knew he was leaning a little too close. He could smell the beer on Steve’s breath. He could count Steve’s eyelashes if he wanted to. And the thing was… he kind of wanted to.

Steve met Bucky’s eyes and the look in them sent a shock of warmth to Bucky’s guts. His eyes darted for a second down to Steve’s lips. “I can handle myself just fine, Buck,” Steve said softly. His gaze lowered and lingered on— _there is no way Steve was looking at his mouth just now._ Bucky’s ribcage felt as though it were full of butterflies.

“Kay,” Bucky said very quietly.

It wasn’t until everyone else at the table roared a cheer that they realized Morita had just beaten Pinkerton at a drinking contest. Falsworth was egging anyone and everyone to take him on next.

“You’re on,” announced the one voice no one expected. All eyes turned to Peggy. She raised a fresh glass of beer, smiling confidently.

Falsworth took a few befuddled seconds to recover. “But—you’re a—”

“I sincerely hope you’re not going to conclude that sentence with ‘woman’ or any other reference to my gender,” Peggy warned.

Falsworth looked around at the others, wondering what he should do.

“If you don’t take her, I will,” Sousa offered.

“I’ll bet you will,” Bucky muttered under his breath.

Daniel kicked him under the table.

Bucky snickered.

And then Falsworth was shrugging and raising his glass. “On the count of three!” Everyone else joined in. “One! Two! –Three!”

“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!”

All eyes were on Peggy. She was gulping like a champion.

Triumphantly, she slammed her empty mug down on the table. Everyone cheered—except Falsworth, who choked on his beer and lowered it to the table, unfinished. Dugan clapped Falsworth on the back while he spluttered.

“Is the Captain aware that we’re going to set sail with hangovers?” Daniel muttered.

“I dunno,” Bucky drawled. “Hey Steve,” Bucky said, leaning slightly closer than necessary, “Did you know the crew is all gonna have hangovers tomorrow morning?”

Steve was eyeing Bucky’s lips warmly again and leaning a little too close. “It’s a tradition. We always drink our last night in port.”

“We drink _every_ night in port!” Dugan boomed. As though to emphasize his point, he chugged another mug of beer.

“It’s true,” Daniel agreed. “They do.”

“Hmm,” Bucky hummed, only half-paying attention. Steve was studying his face in a way which made his stomach curl.

“Cap!” boomed Dugan.

Steve startled and turned his attention to Dugan.

Dugan beckoned Steve closer and said something in a very low voice, shielded by a large hand, so no one could hear but Steve.

Steve blushed and muttered, “Sorry.”

Dugan rubbed him on the back.

Bucky wasn’t sure what Dum Dum said to him, but Steve didn’t lean close like that for the rest of the evening. He kept giving Bucky heated looks though.

* * *

Bucky found it hard to sleep that night. For one, he only had one arm—that took some getting used to. He tried a few different sleeping positions; they all felt weird. There was missing weight, a missing point of balance; it was harder to roll over, harder to sit up.

Among the tossing and turning, his mind kept flashing back to Steve. He hadn’t expected the heat in Steve’s eyes. It made him wonder… all these years… could it be Steve felt the same?

Felt _what?_

Bucky wasn’t sure what he felt for Steve. Attachment, sure. Fondness. Protectiveness. He’d follow Steve to the ends of the earth if he asked. And he’d defend him every step of the way.

But… this? This was new.

Yeah, he’d wondered what it would be like to kiss Steve. But the graphic images plaguing his mind of Steve panting, eyes screwed shut, face flushed, hair flopping back and forth as Bucky thrust into him—these were new.

He was grateful it was his left hand that he’d lost, because his right hand was currently very busy. Always felt better with the right hand.

He felt guilty about this, knowing that Steve was in the next room. He kept his breathing as quiet as possible so as not to wake the others, most of which were passed out from a combination of alcohol and exhaustion.

But he couldn’t stop. How would Steve moan? Would he make choked, quiet little noises, like he was trying to be polite? Wheezy little pleas, barely even a breath? How would he sound when his voice was husky, repeating Bucky’s name as his breaths grew shorter? Was he a talker? Would he scream?

Bucky wondered how hard he could make him come. He lost control of his breathing for a second and let out a soft gasp, overcome by the vivid image of Steve splattering all over his pale ribs. That mental image sent him over the edge.

“Bucky, are you all right?” whispered a voice that made him jump.

Bucky realized he was panting. “Fine!” he whispered back harshly, blushing in the dark.

“You sure? You’re breathing pretty hard..” the voice was concerned. Bucky realized it was Daniel.

“I’m fine!” Bucky hissed. “Go back to sleep.”

Much to his chagrin, Daniel had moved closer. “Are you sure?” he was saying in a quiet voice just below a whisper.

“Yes! I’m sure!” Bucky hissed back. He’d finished wiping himself off and would _really_ like Daniel to leave him alone.

Daniel felt Bucky’s forehead. “You’re sweaty.” He felt the back of Bucky’s cheek with his hand. “And warm.” He sounded worried.

Bucky had had it up to here. “That’s what happens when I jack off!”

Daniel drew back as though he’d been slapped. “…Oh,” he said very quietly.

“Now will you _please_ fuck off!”

“I… I thought,” Daniel started. He aborted that sentence, whatever it was, and apologized before heading back to his own makeshift bed.

Bucky felt awful when he remembered, about ten minutes later, after stewing over nosy annoying people that couldn’t leave well enough alone, that when his arm had been infected, he’d been suffering from a high fever and- from what the doctor said- hallucinations, and that for a good portion of that time, he’d been sharing a room with Daniel.

He hated himself a little bit as he finally started drifting off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Despite the slight excess of alcohol the night prior, everyone was up early and raring to go. Steve called out commands as though he’d never touched alcohol in his life. The men obeyed his orders, equally perk and alert.

“Wha’s their secret?” Bucky slurred, groggy and grumpy.

“Maybe if you hadn’t stayed up so late, you’d have slept better,” Daniel quipped back.

“You were up pretty late yourself,” Bucky grumbled.

“You woke me up.”

Bucky closed his eyes tightly and mouthed a curse.

Daniel clapped his free hand on Bucky’s back. “You owe me one.”

“For what? You being a nosy dick?”

Daniel gave him a look. “For me not telling anyone you were up at two in the morning whispering ‘Steve’.”

Bucky faced him, pale. “No,” he whispered.

“Blue eyes? Blond hair?” Daniel recalled, eyebrows raised. “I think I found that sweetheart you were talking about.”

“No..!” Bucky was shaking his head in disbelief, face pinched with fear.

“Hey. Relax,” Daniel said seriously. “I said I won’t tell anyone, and I mean it.”

Several emotions flickered across Bucky’s face, among which were hatred, pain, and bone-deep terror. Daniel felt bad for mentioning it. He probably should have kept that to himself.

“Please don’t,” Bucky whispered.

Daniel smiled. “You have my word.”

The ship set sail. Excitement ran through the ship in waves. Bucky and Daniel hadn’t been given formal posts on the ship yet, since they’d been incapacitated when they came aboard. Neither of them had given much thought to how they’d joined the crew; it had just seemed the natural thing to do. Especially given that not only had the captain saved their lives, but the captain was Steve.

“Does he know?” Daniel asked quietly.

Bucky’s lips thinned in a grim line. “No.” He glanced at Captain Rogers. “I don’t think I _can_ tell him.” He made a sound that was almost a bitter laugh. “Or should,” he added.

Daniel nodded slowly. “I can understand that.” He hadn’t voiced his own feelings for Peggy to anyone but Bucky, and even then it was only because Bucky wheedled it out of him. “Guess this makes us even.”

“Guess so.”

“…I think she likes you,” Daniel admitted.

Bucky screwed up his face. “Who? _Peggy?”_ he replied in disbelief.

“Yeah.” Daniel frowned at the ocean. “She was really worried about you, when you got sick.”

Bucky shook his head. “Uh, so were _you,_ ” he pointed out.

“And she was really glad when you got better.”

Bucky sighed. “She was probably worried about Steve.”

Daniel frowned. “Steve?”

“…I think Peggy likes Steve.”

Daniel considered this. Out of the three of them, Peggy _did_ spend the most time with Captain Rogers. But then, she hadn’t been in sick bay. “I don’t know,” Daniel admitted.

Bucky snorted softly. “Not like either of us are gonna ask her.”

Daniel’s lips thinned as he bit them from the inside. “No,” he admitted.

“Gentlemen,” Peggy greeted behind them. Both snapped to attention and saluted her; Daniel dropped his crutch and nearly fell over. Bucky bent to pick it up, but remembered belatedly that the arm he intended to reach out with was no longer there, and he nearly lost his balance as well.

Peggy smiled to herself and picked up Daniel’s crutch. “There’s no need for that. I’m no longer your commanding officer.”

“Sorry ma’am. Peggy. –Lieutenant Carter,” Daniel stammered.

Peggy rolled her eyes. “I am no longer a Lieutenant.”

“Says who?” demanded Steve, drawn up to his full height behind her. He only came up to her shoulder.

Peggy gave him a warm, surprised look. “Captain?”

“That’s right,” Steve agreed with a nod. “I’m the captain. And what I say goes. And I say you earned the position of Lieutenant. That puts you on the same level of command as Dugan. The position is yours,” Steve announced, “if you want it.”

“Oh!” Her smile was warm and genuine. “Thank you!”

Steve favored her with a crooked smile. “Is that a yes?”

Peggy straightened and saluted him. “Sir! Yes sir! Lieutenant Carter reporting for duty, sir!”

Steve saluted her right back. “It’s an honor to serve with you, ma’am,” he said seriously, but there was a definite warmth to his voice.

The two dropped their salutes smartly and shared a warm smile.

“The ship is running smoothly, Lieutenant,” Captain Rogers said. “At ease.”

“Yes sir.” Peggy’s stance relaxed, but she kept her good posture. She stood like a queen, like she was meant to be worshipped. Daniel admired her self-assurance. But the way she was looking at Steve right now made him wonder if Bucky was right. Suddenly he didn’t feel so good.

“There’s nothing for us to do, then?” Bucky interrupted.

Steve’s eyes alighted on Bucky. “No,” he said softly. “There isn’t.”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. “Got anything a one-armed man _can_ do?”

“You can keep me company.” Steve’s face was unreadable. He was looking at Bucky’s chest and shoulders as though trying to read invisible words there. “Lieutenant Carter?”

“Aye, sir?”

“You and Dugan are in charge until I say otherwise. Bucky and I have some catching up to do.”

* * *

Steve led Bucky to what Bucky could only assume was Steve’s cabin. It was by far the most ornate part of the ship he’d seen so far, yet at the same time it seemed humble. Navy, red, white, and gold fabrics and sundries adorned the room. Steve sat upon a comfortable-looking velvet-clad chair and indicated Bucky sit in the one across from him.

Tentatively, Bucky sat down. “…Nice place you got here.”

Steve’s mouth pulled to one side. “It’s a bit much. Most of this was presents from my crewmates; they insisted I keep them.”

“Uh huh.” Bucky reclined and crossed his arm. That felt weird, so he rested it behind his head instead. That felt weird too. He grunted and rested his now-suddenly-awkward hand in his lap. “So. Where’ve you been the past ten years?”

Steve winced. “You want some champagne? I want some champagne.” He stood and bent behind a counter. He emerged with a bottle of champagne and two glasses, which he put on the table between them. He poured champagne into both.

“I never said yes,” Bucky pointed out.

Steve shrugged. “If you don’t drink it, I will.”

Bucky pulled the glass towards himself, but did not drink.

Steve did. He drained nearly half his glass before he started talking. “I suppose I have some apologizing to do.”

“You’re damn right. Where the hell have you been? Not a letter, a postcard- nothing! You could’ve been dead for all I knew!”

“I know, and I’m sorry, Buck.” Steve looked like a kicked dog. “I really am.”

Bucky huffed. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

Steve took another drink of champagne. “The last time I saw you, I was ten. And you were eleven, right?”

“Right.”

Steve looked down. “Well… my ma died that winter.” He paused just long enough for Bucky to say, “Gee, I’m sorry, Steve,” in a heartfelt voice, but Steve held up a hand to stop him.

“My ma died of pneumonia,” Steve said. “She was buried next to Dad. I didn’t know what to do, or where to go. I was alone. Didn’t have any relatives living nearby.” He took a drink of champagne. “Didn’t really want to go to them anyway. And I felt bad about that, I felt bad about not telling you what happened, but I just didn’t want to burden anybody. I had a cough, myself, and I was pretty sure I was gonna die too.”

Bucky was fuming. “You were gonna fucking _die_ and you _didn’t think to tell_ _me?!”_

Steve met his eyes, sad and serious. “I didn’t want to die under your roof, or anyone else’s. If I was gonna die, I wanted to die alone. Part of me felt I deserved that.”

Bucky wanted to throttle him.

Steve took another sip of champagne and refilled his glass. “So I was wandering the streets, and it was getting dark. I didn’t really know where I was going. And this guy called to me.” Steve paused, probably thinking how to word this. “He was old, probably fifty-something, and had these round little glasses. He said, ‘excuse me, young man!’ And I looked around, wondering who he was talking to. Figured it couldn’t have been me.

“But it was,” Steve continued. “He took me into this building, asked me what I was doing out by myself. I was coughing pretty bad. He gave me an old blanket, wrapped it around my shoulders. Gave me something warm to drink. Tasted like honey. I didn’t tell him much, didn’t really want to talk. But after wandering in the cold all day, having something warm was nice, so I figured I’d stay there for a while.

“Well… I ended up falling asleep there, near the fireplace. I woke up in a bed, figured out later he must’ve carried me there. He kept giving me broth and warm drinks. He didn’t ask me much, I didn’t say much. I started to feel better. And then he said something to me which, at the time, I only half-believed. He said there was this… miracle cure out there, somewhere. A ‘serum,’ he called it. And he said if I could get ahold of it, I’d be big and strong, and I’d never have to worry about getting sick again.

“Now, that sounded too good to be true.” Steve paused for a sip of champagne. “And I thought it was. But then he took me aboard this ship, a big one like this one, and told everyone I was his cabin boy. He promised if I came along with him, I’d have a life of adventure, and in return he’d make sure I was okay. He said we were gonna go look for that serum. And all the stuff he’d been asking, about my family and whether I had any, and about what I wanted to be when I grew up—it all started to make sense.

“The Captain- Phillips was his name- wasn’t too happy to see me. ‘Another one?!’ he said.” Steve seemed to find this funny. “I have no idea how many other guys Erskine took aboard his ship. Could’ve been his second, or his twelfth. Or his twentieth. I have no idea.

“What I _do_ know is that he wasn’t kidding about the life of adventure. We went through storms, swordfights, gunfights, _cannon_ fights—we visited Morocco and India and Japan. I went to places I’d never even heard of. And I thought of writing you, I wondered how you were doing, but it never seemed right. What would I do, write you a letter you couldn’t respond to? –We were never on land for long, nor did we want to be. And even if I did have the chance to write you, I had no idea where to start. ‘Hey, Bucky, I’ve run away from home and joined a band of pirates?’ ‘Hey, Bucky, did I mention I’ve been to Africa?’ –It seemed like something you’d probably yell at me for,”

“You’re damn right!”

“-So I didn’t say it.” Steve took another sip of champagne.

“So you’re a pirate.”

Steve held up a finger. “Yes, and no. We’re… There’s two kinds of pirates, kind of. It’s… hard to explain.”

“Try.”

Steve took another sip of champagne. “Okay. The ship I joined, the ship I own? We’re the good kind of pirates.”

“So you rape and pillage for the good of mankind.”

Steve frowned. “We do _not_ rape or pillage.”

“Then what the fuck _do_ you do, Steve? Because from what I’ve heard, that’s pretty much _all_ pirates do.”

“Not _my_ kind of pirates!” Steve snapped. “Erskine was a good man. So was Fury, and the rest of them. The men I command now are good men. I would _die_ for them.”

“Geez! Okay!” Bucky did not enjoy being on the brunt end of Steve’s wrath.

Steve composed himself, still seething with rage. “Erskine was after adventure, and he found it. That’s what I’m after too. I believe him about the serum, Bucky. I’ve seen it.”

“You’ve _seen_ it.”

Steve nodded, completely serious. “We fought a man named Redskull. He was the captain of a ship, the Scylla. He had almost superhuman strength. It took ten men to take him down. We killed most of them, but the rest of them got away. Not before they’d taken all the goods we had on-board, and not before Redskull raged about how he was the perfect man, and couldn’t be defeated. That was the last thing he said, before I knocked him unconscious. Phillips had him thrown overboard.

We lost a lot of good men in that fight. Erskine was one of them. He told me to go after that serum, said something about how it amplifies whatever’s on the inside, so good becomes great, and bad becomes worse; said that’s why Redskull had turned out so… well.” Steve swished the champagne around in his glass and took another sip.

“So let me get this straight. You’re a pirate. You’ve been in _multiple_ swordfights. And you’re searching for a magical cure-all that’s supposed to turn you into some sort of superman. Is that what I’m getting?”

“Yes,” Steve answered seriously.

Bucky rubbed his face. He needed a drink. Luckily, he had one.

Bucky chugged his champagne.

Steve regarded him patiently.

“Do I even _want_ to know how you became captain?”

Steve smiled gently. “It took some doing, but eventually I earned Phillips’ respect. He was getting old and wanted to retire; the guy he left in charge, Nick Fury, was also getting up there in years. Fury had been in charge for about two weeks before he turned to me and started calling me Cap. Soon the crew started calling me Cap, too. Once the crew believed it, he retired, and I’ve been Captain Rogers ever since.”

Bucky shook his head. “You are unbelievable.”

“But you believe me?” Steve said, leaning across the table.

Bucky squinted at him. “D’you have a hollow leg where you’re storing all that alcohol? ‘Cause I swear you just drank half that bottle.”

Steve smirked. “I’ve developed a high tolerance for alcohol.”

Bucky considered this. His brain was feeling rather fuzzy. “Well,” he admitted, “you _did_ beat Dum Dum Dugan in a drinking contest.”

“Damn straight!” Steve agreed, finishing the rest of his champagne.

“Is that his real name?” Bucky wondered aloud.

“No one knows.” Steve didn’t seem bothered by this, only slightly puzzled. “He introduced himself with the nickname and hasn’t told anyone his real name. It’s his most closely guarded secret.”

Bucky squinted at him. “You’re joking.”

Steve’s mouth turned up in a half-smile. “Maybe,” he agreed.

“You’re takin’ advantage of me ‘cause I’m drunk.”

Steve gave him another one of those heated looks. Suddenly Bucky wasn’t just warm because of the alcohol. Steve’s gaze trailed slowly from Bucky’s eyes, to his lips, to his chest, then back up again. “I would never take advantage of you,” Steve promised, voice low.

Bucky really wished he would.

There was a knock on the door. “Captain?” Peggy opened the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but the helmsman has a question for you.”

“What’s his question?” Steve asked, as though unwilling to get up. If Bucky wasn’t drunk out of his mind and interpreting things incorrectly, he could almost say Steve was _annoyed_ that they’d been interrupted.

“I don’t know,” Peggy admitted, apologetic. “He requested your presence?”

Steve eyed Bucky.

“If you’re done catching up with your old friend?” she added.

Steve set down his empty glass of champagne. “For now,” he relented, sounding a bit put-out. He followed Peggy out of the room, leaving Bucky there in a half-drunk stupor, digesting everything he’d just been told.

* * *

Steve was _very_ annoyed that they’d been interrupted. But duty called, and Steve was nothing if not a good captain. He answered the helmsman’s question about the heading, privately wondering why Peggy didn’t just tell him that’s all the helmsman needed to know.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt,” said Peggy as though she wasn’t really sorry.

“You did,” Steve replied tersely.

“I’m sorry, Captain.”

“No you’re not.” Steve polished his spyglass and looked out at sea, squinting in the bright sunlight.

“I really am,” Peggy insisted, although she only looked half-sorry. “Though perhaps it’s for the best. Your breath smells of champagne.”

Steve grunted in acknowledgement.

“Wouldn’t do to have a drunk captain.”

“I wouldn’t have been drunk.” Steve pocketed the spyglass. “I know how much I can handle.”

“Of course.”

“See anything interesting?” piped up Daniel, hobbling towards them.

“Just water,” said Steve. “How’s your leg?”

“Still wood, last time I checked.” Daniel gave him a crooked smile.

“But it’s holding up all right?”

“It’s holding me up. The crutch helps.” Daniel gestured with it.

“Steve?”

Steve turned to Peggy.

“Where are we going?”

Steve straightened his three-point hat, although it didn’t need to be straightened. “West.”

Peggy smiled and rolled her eyes. “Well I gathered _that._ I meant where to?”

Steve stared out at the water for a long moment, face unreadable. “An island off the coast of South America.”

“South America?” Peggy repeated. “Why would we be going there? I thought the war only involved North America and Europe. Is it a safehold?”

Steve sighed. He clasped his hands together, leaning on his elbows. “I know we never really told you, but this ship isn’t military.”

“So you’re merchants?” she guessed.

“More like… explorers.”

Peggy considered this.

“What _kind_ of explorers?” Daniel asked, hobbling up on the other side of them.

Steve’s response by Bucky emerging from Steve’s cabin, squinting in the sunlight. He lurched towards them unsteadily, a thousand thoughts behind his eyes.

Steve lit up when he saw him. He steadied Bucky with a hand on his lower back. “Too much champagne?” he asked in a low voice.

“Had a second glass.” Bucky leaned into him gratefully.

Steve smiled and left his hand there.

Daniel’s eyes darted between the two of them.

Peggy stepped closer. “Are you all right, Barnes?”

Bucky held up a sign with his hand to indicate he was okay. “Just a little drunk,” he elaborated.

“At nine o’clock in the morning?” Daniel asked incredulously.

“Nine-thirty,” Peggy corrected.

Daniel raised his eyebrows at her.

“What? I have a wristwatch.” She held it up for his inspection.

Daniel glanced at the time, displayed on her slender wrist. “So you do.”

Peggy’s keen eyes were boring into Bucky, full of unanswered questions.

Bucky was leaning his weight against Steve. Steve could smell his sweat and musk. He smelled both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Steve remembered how Bucky had smelled when they were younger; this new, man-smell was sharper and more pungent— deeper, rougher. He could smell the sweet champagne on Bucky’s breath as well, the same champagne which was making his head slightly buzz. He’d gotten a little lost in examining Bucky’s profile when Peggy wondered, “What _are_ you doing drunk at nine-thirty in the morning?”

Bucky paused for a beat. Steve smirked at the expression on Bucky’s face. “Standing,” Bucky answered. He swayed a bit.

“Maybe you should’ve eaten something first,” Steve said warmly.

Bucky pffff’d. “Nah. ‘m never hungry in the mornings.”

“Bucky. You eat like a tank.”

Peggy laughed.

“No, it’s true,” said Daniel. “I sat next to him last night. Guy eats more than Dugan.”

“Well I ate a big dinner then!” Bucky corrected, words slightly slurred.

“Would you like to sit down somewhere, until you feel sober?” Steve offered gently.

“Nah. ‘m fine.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Daniel offered.

Steve cast him a look that was sharper than he intended. His eyes traveled back to Bucky. His arm was still supporting Bucky’s lower back. “I think I’d rather do that,” Steve said in a voice that boded no argument.

* * *

Daniel watched Steve lead Bucky away with his arm snugly around his lower back.

“Do you think he knows?” Peggy said unexpectedly.

“Wha—who?”

“Bucky. Do you think he knows?”

Daniel frowned. “Knows what?”

“About Captain Rogers’ feelings for him. –Oh come now, don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“No, I— didn’t.” His frown deepened. “You think so?”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “He couldn’t be more obvious. Touches him every opportunity he gets, can’t keep his eyes off him.”

Daniel digested this. “Huh.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Peggy examined him quizzically.

Daniel shrugged. “What is there _to_ say?”

“Well for one, they’re two men. Most people would have a problem with that.”

The corner of Daniel’s mouth twitched. “I don’t judge.” He was watching the Captain adoringly rub Bucky’s back as he leaned over the side of the ship. He seemed to be speaking soft encouragement of some sort, but Daniel couldn’t read lips so he wasn’t sure what he was saying.

“That’s surprising,” Peggy said warmly. Her eyes sparkled, just like the sea. Except brown and rich and beautiful.

“Why? You think a guy with a peg leg’s gonna judge?” He blushed a little under her warm gaze.

“It’s just that most people do.”

“Well I’m not most people.”

“No,” Peggy agreed, smiling. “You’re not.”

Daniel’s eyes darted across her face. He wondered if it was possible she— He tore his gaze away with a rueful little smile. His attention returned to Steve and Bucky. Their heads were very close now, and they were deep in hushed conversation. “He doesn’t know.”

Peggy was watching them too. She sighed. “Thought as much.”

* * *

Sailing went smoothly. Bucky and Daniel were assigned shared sleeping quarters.

“Not. One. Word,” Bucky warned, glaring at him.

Daniel smirked. “Just let me know if you need me to leave for a few minutes.”

Bucky growled.

Steve frowned between the two of them.

Bucky glared at the ceiling, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Um, if you need anything, you know where to find me,” Steve said, looking at Bucky.

“Yep.” Bucky was still glaring at the ceiling.

Daniel was cracking up.

Steve’s frown deepened. An odd feeling twisted his stomach. “…Good night,” he said uncertainly.

“Good night,” Daniel said brightly and Bucky grumbled through clenched teeth.

Steve left the odd pair and strode onto the moonlit deck. He appreciated the opportunity to breathe in the clear night air and be alone with his thoughts.

He would have appreciated this more if he hadn’t been approached by Peggy. “I trust they have everything settled?”

“Apparently.” Steve’s gut was still twisted.

“Well that’s good.” She leaned against the railing of the ship and stared at the moonlit sea. “Are there always so many stars out here?” she said after a long pause.

The night sky was truly beautiful. It was one sight Steve knew he’d never get tired of. “Yes,” he answered, leaning against the railing next to her, his elbow almost touching hers, but not quite. For some reason, he felt compelled to keep a bit of physical distance between them. “The stars are always brighter once you get away from the big cities.”

“Pity you can’t see them like this on land.”

“You can. You just need to be in the more rural parts, away from the cities. It’s almost impossible to see a night sky like this in Europe. –Much better in Africa.”

Peggy hummed. The wind blew a curl against her cheek. She seemed enchanted by the night sky in a way Steve found refreshing.

“I take it you’ve never been away from big cities?” he guessed.

“Not like this,” she granted. She inhaled deeply through her nose, eyes closing for a second. “It’s really freeing out here. I wouldn’t mind sailing for the rest of my life.”

“Me too. –Me neither. I mean… me too,” Steve finished in a mumble, feeling awkward.

She smiled kindly. “You really love the sea, don’t you.”

Steve stared out at the water, cheeks warm. “Yeah,” he agreed.

Peggy hummed. “Me too.” She smirked. “And I do mean, ‘me too.’”

Steve rolled his eyes and punched her lightly in the arm.

Peggy grinned.

Steve grinned back. Warmth blossomed across his chest.

“But that’s not the only thing you love,” she guessed.

Steve’s grin dropped. “Well.. no.” He stared out at sea. “I love adventure, and finding new places, and meeting new people, learning new things.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Peggy said with a smile in her voice.

Steve blushed, his feeling of awkwardness increasing. “I love swashbuckling?”

Peggy’s smile widened. “I meant some _one._ ”

Steve felt as though a stone had just descended in his gut. He took a half-step away from her. “Look… Peg. You’re— beautiful, and amazing, and strong, but.. I don’t— I mean, maybe if I’d known you longer, I’d— why are you laughing?”

“Because,” she explained as she forced the bubbles of laughter to die down, “I didn’t mean _me._ ”

Steve blushed. “Oh.” He shifted awkwardly, eyes on the ground.

“Though, to be fair, I feel the same about you.”

Steve’s head jerked up. “You do?”

Peggy smiled warmly. “Maybe if circumstances were different… But no, you and I are just friends.”

“Yeah.” Steve let the word settle over him warmly. “Friends.” He tasted the word on his tongue. He decided he liked that word.

“But I couldn’t help noticing… there’s _one_ of your friends you look at a bit differently.”

Steve frowned. “There is?” His heart rate picked up a notch.

“Mmm,” Peggy hummed in agreement, hands folded, resting her elbows easily against the railing and staring out at sea. “You certainly spend a lot of time alone with him.”

“I— do I?”

Peggy gave him a curious look. “You mean you don’t know?”

“Who are you talking about?” Steve asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

“Bucky.”

The name slammed into him; he could taste the syllables in his throat. _Bucky._ The one person who’d been constantly on his mind since— _Bucky._ Oh, this wasn’t happening, he wasn’t— “I’m not in love with my best friend.” But even as the words came out of his mouth, he knew they weren’t true.

“It’s all right if you are,” Peggy said, scanning his face with keen eyes.

Steve shook his head, trying to clear it of Bucky’s eyes, Bucky’s laugh, Bucky’s smile. “No, we—we’re just friends.” And for some reason, that sentence hurt.

“Are you falling for him?” Peggy asked softly.

This, Steve couldn’t answer honestly. And Steve was always honest. He watched the moonlit ocean slowly drift past.

Peggy rested her elbow gently against his. “It’s all right,” she said quietly. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“…Thank you,” Steve said quietly.

They spent some time silently staring out into the night, side by side, connected gently at the elbow. Steve was grateful for the silence. Even the way the stars twinkled reminded him of Bucky.

“Good night, Captain,” Peggy said quietly after a while.

“Good night,” Steve answered, sparing her a half-smile. She smiled back and headed to her cabin.

Steve was left alone, looking to the moon for answers.


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky’s arm still bothered him; it itched, it ached, it— wasn’t _there_ anymore. But despite everything, here he was, standing in the sunlight with Steve. Steve was convinced that a particular cloud was shaped like a rhinoceros, but Bucky was convinced it was a rabbit.

“No, see?” Steve stood close to Bucky and pointed. “The horn is right there! And there’s the curve of his back.” Steve traces the cloud with his finger.

Bucky shook his head. “No, that’s a carrot. Look, those are his ears.” He pointed.

“Rabbits have fluffy tails. Where’s the fluffy tail?”

“It’s a _cloud._ The whole _thing_ is fluffy!”

Steve shook his head. “Unless you can show me his fluffy tail, he’s a rhinoceros.”

“What makes you think it’s a ‘he’? Maybe it’s a _girl_ rabbit.”

“You a veterinarian now?”

“Least I’m not a fucking _zookeeper._ Rhino? Really?”

“What are you two boys bickering about?”

They both turned to face Peggy.

She was looking at the cloud. “It’s clearly a lobster.”

They glanced at the cloud, then back at Peggy. “You’re right,” Steve said. “It’s a lobster.”

Bucky spluttered in exasperation. “What! After all that, _just_ because she said so!”

“No, I see it too,” chimed in Daniel, who had hobbled over and joined them.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh, well _now_ it’s settled!”

Daniel kicked him with his peg leg.

Bucky lunged at him as though punching him with the arm that wasn’t there.

They locked eyes and cracked up.

“The boys are starting a game of bridge,” Peggy announced, “if you’re interested.”

Steve cast a glance at Bucky.

Bucky shrugged. “Don’t know how good I’d be with one hand.”

“Steve?” she asked.

“If Bucky’s not playing, then neither am I,” he answered.

Peggy and Daniel’s eyes met; something unspoken passed between them. It was almost like they _knew_ something, though _what_ they knew was a mystery. Bucky shifted uneasily.

“Very well,” Peggy said. “We’ll be in the common room, if you need us.” She and Daniel headed off towards the common room; Peggy turned and paused. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want to join?”

“I’m sure,” Steve answered, watching Bucky.

As soon as Peggy’s footsteps faded, Steve pointed at another one. “Racehorse.”

Bucky squinted. “Are you _blind?_ That’s _clearly_ a seahorse!”

And so the afternoon passed, and faded into evening.

The clouds had coalesced into a thick pink-and-orange blanket by the time Bucky started to feel hungry. He could smell dinner cooking. Inevitably, they were going to have to join the others. Bucky hadn’t realized his expression had fallen until Steve said, standing very close, “Bucky?”

Bucky turned to him. Steve’s beautiful blue eyes were only a few inches away.

Steve took in Bucky’s face slowly, lingering on every detail. “It’s good to see you again,” he said quietly.

“’s good to see you too,” Bucky replied, suddenly very aware of how his lips and his tongue moved as he spoke. They felt warm.

A long moment passed between them. “I missed you,” Steve said, even quieter.

“Yeah,” said Bucky, taking in every detail of Steve’s perfect face. “I missed you too.”

A smile, slow and warm like honey, spread across Steve’s face. He was silent for a long moment, and then his expression turned serious. “Buck?”

Bucky swallowed. “Yeah Steve?”

“…Will you stay? With me?”

Bucky smiled. “Of course I will.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s teeth gleamed in the rosy glow of the setting sun.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed.

Someone cleared their throat loudly behind them.

Steve and Bucky jumped away from each other. Bucky hadn’t realized how close they were standing until Dum Dum Dugan interrupted.

“Dinner’s ready,” Dugan announced in an uncertain voice, scrutinizing the two of them with an unreadable expression.

“We’ll be right there,” Steve replied a touch too loudly, smoothing his hair.

Bucky was pretty sure his heart was gonna race right out of his chest. “After you, Cap.”

Steve smiled up at him. “How about we walk in side-by-side?” he suggested, a tad nervous.

Bucky returned his smile. “Sounds good to me.”

* * *

“Do you see how close he’s leaning?” Daniel said under his breath, leaning very close to Peggy.

“Do you think he’s noticed?” Peggy replied in the same tone.

“Can’t say for sure,” Daniel muttered. Steve and Bucky were leaning very close; they walked in side-by- side, sat next to each other, and had been connected at the shoulder ever since, laughing in unison whenever somebody said something funny. A few times, Steve had laughed so hard that his head had touched Bucky’s shoulder, and every time it did, Bucky would give him the softest look.

“Perhaps things will work themselves out,” Peggy offered quietly.

“Maybe,” Daniel said doubtfully.

“Would you like the rest of my pudding?” Peggy offered, more loudly. “I don’t think I can finish it.”

“Sure,” Daniel said, surprised. He accepted the offered bowl of pudding; their fingers brushed; his heart fluttered. He realized, once the first spoonful was in his mouth, that Peggy’s lips had been wrapped around this very same spoon.

“Mind if I borrow a sip of that?” she said, indicating Daniel’s half-full glass of water.

“Oh. Sure, go ahead.”

Peggy sipped gracefully, exposing her long, pale neck as she tilted her head back to drink.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile, handing his glass back.

Daniel stared at the lipstick mark.

The room was getting quite warm; Daniel had finished with his dinner, and Peggy’s pudding. “I need some air.”

“I’ll come with you,” Peggy offered. She stood and followed him.

Daniel hobbled out onto the deck, illuminated softly by the lilac hues of twilight. The stars were just beginning to come out through the misty cloud cover. He rested his crutch against the side of the ship, using the railing to support his weight instead.

Peggy stood beside him.

“Peggy?”

“Yes, Daniel?”

“There’s… something I need to tell you.” His heart was pounding.

“Yes?” She faced him with her full attention.

Daniel closed his eyes and took a breath, inhaling the salty sea breeze. “When you asked ‘do you think he’s noticed’…” he began, wondering if he ought to say this or not, “I thought you were talking about Steve.”

“Pardon?” Peggy was thrown off by this remark.

“I thought you were asking if I thought Steve had noticed Bucky’s feelings for him.”

“So you think Bucky feels the same?” Her dazzling brown eyes searched his.

“I _know_ he feels the same,” Daniel admitted, searching her face, palms sweaty. “He told me so. But I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Peggy beamed. “Steve told me the same thing. –That he has feelings for Bucky. But I promised the same thing.”

Daniel’s face cracked into a smile. “So they’re both falling in love with each other, but neither of them is going to say anything about it?”

“I hope they do.” Peggy’s gaze was unnervingly pointed and bright, as though perhaps she knew something else she wasn’t telling him.

“So do I,” Daniel agreed, wondering if, maybe… “Does Steve know?”

“I’m not sure,” Peggy admitted, face clouding a bit. “In fact, I think he’s just realized his own feelings, himself.”

“Ah.” Daniel stared at the twilit sea. Peggy’s eyes were too keen. If she found out about his own feelings, and she didn’t return them— well. That was something Daniel didn’t want to deal with just yet.

“Does Bucky know?” she wondered aloud, sounding only half-interested. She, too, was staring out at sea.

“He definitely doesn’t,” Daniel replied. “He’s kind of beating himself up over it.”

“It’s a shame,” Peggy sighed. “They really ought to talk about it.”

“They really should,” Daniel agreed.

* * *

Bucky slept restlessly that night. He and Daniel both chided each other over the bags under their eyes the next morning. Daniel called Bucky a raccoon; Bucky called Daniel an asshole.

They ran into a spot of rainy weather, so Steve was needed on-deck. Bucky and Daniel spent a companionable day together playing cards, and fell asleep early that night while the remnants of the storm gently tossed the ship.

The rest of their journey to the island passed in a rather uneventful string of days and nights, in which Bucky and Daniel spent their time primarily with Steve and Peggy, respectively. The weather got warmer and balmier. Bucky fell deeper in love with Steve with every passing moment, but despite the warm way Steve regarded him, Bucky had no idea how Steve felt. Every time they ended up in a situation where his imagination started to run away with him, and he started to wonder if Steve was leaning that close on purpose, they were inevitably interrupted by someone calling Steve away for this or that.

He almost wished they could sail forever, until Steve finally returned his feelings, but instead the cry of “Land ho!” on a cloudy afternoon signaled that they were almost at their destination.

Steve backed away from Bucky, where he’d been leaning a hair too close again, and took out his spyglass. He squinted out at the island. “That’s the one,” he said in a voice brimming with an undercurrent of excitement. He flurried about the ship, giving orders and preparing everyone for their arrival.

Bucky was left wondering where they were, and why there was such a sharp flare of excitement and anticipation ignited upon the Captain’s words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I'm a horrible tease.


	6. Chapter 6

The island was backlit by a flaring crimson sunset. They trudged through the sand, toting their supplies with them. According to the map, they had at least a day’s travel before they arrived at their destination.

As yet, the Captain had yet to specify what exactly this destination was. Everyone else seemed to know. “Excuse me,” Daniel tried asking Dugan, “Where exactly are we going?”

Dugan was uncharacteristically serious. “The Captain has been searching for a long time. He finally got a lead on it. That lead is on this island.” His mustache twitched. “As far as we know.”

“Searching for what?”

“Some kind of serum,” Bucky piped up beside him. “Sounds like the stuff of legends. Steve thinks it’ll cure him of pretty much everything.”

Daniel frowned. “That _does_ sound like the stuff of legends. But Captain Rogers really thinks it exists?”

“We’ve seen it,” said Dugan gravely.

“Not the actual serum,” corrected Morita, who was walking nearby. “But we _have_ seen somebody who’s taken it.”

“Or claimed to, anyway,” added Gabe Jones.

“If the Captain believes he took it,” said Dum Dum Dugan, “That’s good enough for me.”

“And you all know about this?” asked Daniel.

“Course we do,” said Morita. “We’ve been helping him search for it.”

“We’re all agreed,” Gabe chimed in, “that if we ever find it, even if there’s only enough for one person, the Captain will take it.”

“You all respect him that much?” Daniel was impressed.

“Course we do,” said Dum Dum. “He’s the best Captain we could ever have.”

Bucky’s chest was puffed out with pride. His eyes gleamed as he watched Steve walk on ahead of them.

“But what if it doesn’t exist?” Daniel wondered.

The group faltered and paused. Dum Dum seemed particularly incensed by this comment. “It exists,” he grunted.

“And if anyone can find it,” Bucky said with a voice both steely and proud, “Steve can.”

The rest nodded in agreement.

“We’ll camp here for the night,” announced Captain Rogers.

Tents were erected, hammocks hung. A friendly buzz of conversation filled the air.

“Let me help you with that,” Steve offered as Bucky was trying to hang his hammock one-handed. The pair stood very close.

Daniel had managed on his own. His peg leg kept getting stuck in the ground though, as did his crutch. This was mildly frustrating.

“Need a hand?” offered Peggy.

“Hand’s fine,” quipped Daniel. “A leg would be nice though.”

“Well I’m afraid I can’t give you that.” She smirked. “Hungry?”

“Who isn’t?” It had been a long day. Everyone was looking forward to dinner. It smelled _fantastic._

“Come on.” Peggy held out her arm, bent at the elbow.

Daniel glanced at her incredulously, tempted, but… “You know I’m heavier than I look?”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “I carried both you _and_ Barnes onto that lifeboat. Yes, I know how heavy you are.”

“As long as you know,” Daniel relented, resting his crutch against a tree and taking her arm. It was clumsy at first, leaning on Peggy instead of his crutch, but she was strong and sure, and bore his weight easily. His peg leg didn’t get stuck in the ground nearly as often or as badly. Or maybe he didn’t notice if it did.

Peggy sat down next to him.

As the meal went on, she shared her food, and asked for tidbits from Daniel’s plate, as had become habit for them. Daniel didn’t even really think about it anymore, it was just something they did. Peggy wiping the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief, smiling once the dab of whatever-it-is was gone, sitting a bit closer, relaxing and watching the fire— all of this felt completely natural. As did the easy conversation that flowed around them. Without realizing it, Daniel had settled into this crew with a sense of belonging.

Across the campfire, Dugan was telling a story with great gusto, gesturing with the bottle of alcohol he was holding. Steve and Bucky were sitting off to Dugan’s left and laughing at something Dugan had just said. Daniel laughed too, sated and happy.

The crew passed a lazy evening together, passing around a bottle of Scotch and exchanging personal anecdotes.

Someone had just finished telling a story about how Captain Rogers had heroically broken up a bar fight, only to discover what the bar fight had been _about_ and start it back up again, bringing the crew into it with him, when it was Bucky’s turn with the Scotch. “Oh, you boys don’t know the _half_ of it!” The group encouraged him, with scattered laughter, to tell them one they hadn’t heard about the dear captain.

Steve seemed a bit sheepish.

“All right, all right,” Bucky said, “You wanna hear about the time Steve almost cried because someone brought live chickens to show and tell? Or the time when Steve got beat up on the playground because some guy was pickin’ on a girl he didn’t even know? Or the time Steve worked himself up over me catching a frog?”

“Do the chickens!” one voice piped up.

“Frogs! Frogs!” chanted another.

“Chickens!”

“Frogs!”

“Settle down,” Bucky said, clearly enjoying this. “All right, how old were we…

“He was five, and I was six. And this boy named Wade Wilson thought it would be a great idea to bring his chickens in for show-and-tell. The teacher said that was all right, figured it was important for us to learn about animals.” Bucky took a swig of Scotch. “So this kid brings in a box with holes in the sides, and everyone goes _ballistic_ because he brought _real live baby chickens_ into class. We all thought it was great. Everyone wanted to touch them, of course— they were all so cute and yellow and fluffy. So we started petting them. And that was fine— Steve had _no problem_ with that. –Yeah, he was a _little_ nervous about someone touching the chicks too hard, but everyone was being real gentle, so he was okay for the moment.

“The real trouble began when people started taking them _out_ of the box. They. Were. _Everywhere._ I had one on my shoulder, one in my lap. There were chicks on desks and under desks, just waddling around the classroom.

“And Steve here was having a _fit._ He kept telling people to be careful, kept asking the teacher if she was _sure_ this was okay. He got real mad, started taking chicks away from people, chasing them all over the classroom and putting them into the box. It was funny to watch, Steve with armfuls of baby chickens, nearly crying, telling everyone they weren’t being careful enough.

“Well. When I got home that night, I asked Steve what that was all about, and he turned to me almost in tears again and he said, ‘Because they’re so small, and they could break so easy!’” Bucky broke off in a soft smile, so much love on his face it would take a blind man not to see it. “He felt like he had to protect them, so nobody would get hurt.”

The collective amusement warmed into something else. All eyes were on Steve and Bucky.

Bucky glanced around as though just now remembering that he wasn’t alone, sat down awkwardly, and passed the bottle to Steve. He cleared his throat. “Your turn.”

“I don’t think I can top that,” said Steve, knocking his shoulder against Bucky’s.

“Tell us one about Bucky!” Peggy requested across the campfire.

“Yeah!” agreed Daniel. “Tell us one about Bucky!” The consensus grew.

Steve smiled a self-deprecating smile. “Well,” he said slowly, drawing out the word. “There is the time we bought one of everything from the ice cream shoppe.”

Bucky snorted. “Oh, _that_ one.”

“See, _I_ said I wanted ice cream,” said Steve. “I wasn’t sure what kind. I just wanted ice cream. So Bucky and I went to this ice cream shoppe that had just opened on the corner. And I was looking at the flavors. Bucky asked which one I wanted. And I said, ‘they look so good, I can’t decide.’” He grinned. “Well, Bucky took that literally and bought me a scoop of every flavor.”

Everyone laughed.

“Hey,” Bucky said, “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

Steve held up his hands. “No, no. I liked it. I liked all of them, actually. –Except the tutti frutti, that was just okay.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “ _One_ flavor.”

“Yeah, Buck, that’s all I asked for. One flavor.” The two jostled shoulders for a bit.

Dugan took the Scotch back. He was watching them warmly.

“Well,” Steve said, slapping his tiny knees, “I think it’s time for bed.”

There were murmurs of agreement and disagreement with this statement, the end result of which was a gradual trickle of people heading away from the campfire and towards their tents and hammocks.

Daniel leant to pick up his crutch, out of habit, and remembered with reddened ears that Peggy had helped him to his current perch.

“Ready for bed?” Peggy asked, low and close.

Daniel gulped. “Yeah.”

“Very well.” Peggy stood and helped him to his feet. “Off we go.” She helped him to his hammock as though it were second nature. When they arrived at the hammock, Daniel wondered how he was going to get in. The task seemed suddenly daunting.

“Need a hand?” Peggy offered.

“I told you,” Daniel quipped, “I need a leg.”

Peggy smirked. “Why don’t you try, and I’ll stand right here if you need me.”

“Yeah.” Daniel surveyed the hammock. “Thanks.” He thought through how to climb into the hammock, settled on a plan of action, and hoisted himself up using his arms; the hammock bent and swayed, throwing him off-balance. Peggy caught him. Together, they got him into the hammock.

Peggy’s hands were still on his shoulders; she was leaning over him. “All right?” she asked. Her breath smelled sweet.

“Yeah,” Daniel replied, wishing he could kiss her. “Not sure how I’m gonna get back out though.”

Peggy smiled. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” And then her hands were gone. “Good night, Daniel.”

“Good night.” He watched her hips sway all the way to her tent and cursed himself for being a coward.

* * *

The sense of excitement and anticipation was palpable the next morning as they broke camp. Steve was so close, he could practically feel himself healing. He urged his crew on at a grueling pace.

Daniel and Peggy kept lagging behind; this annoyed Steve, but also made him feel guilty for urging them on so quickly. He knew it was harder for Daniel to keep pace with him, but he was just _so close-!_

When they happened on the clearing marked on the map late in the afternoon, the adrenaline coursing through Steve’s veins spiked. “This is it,” he announced with more breath than voice. The clearing was large, sunny, and peppered with wildflowers among the ankle-deep grass. Butterflies fluttered about, unafraid. Sunlight glittered on the rippling surface of a nearby stream. They could smell fresh carrots, tomatoes, and parsley from the garden. The thatched roof of the cottage gleamed gold in the sunlight.

And outside the cottage, reclined on a white deck chair near the stream, was an old man, his back turned to them. He was sunning himself, seemingly unaware of their presence.

Steve approached the man, heart in his throat. “Mister Stark?”

“Please,” said the man, unconcerned as he turned lazily to face them. “Call me Howard.”

“Howard,” Steve apologized. He knelt down on one knee in front of Howard, balancing himself with his sword. “I’ve been searching for you for years.”

“For me?” Howard’s voice creaked. “What would you want _me_ for?”

Steve raised his chin. “Your inventions,” Steve replied. “The serum you invented. I— I need it.”

“Why so formal?” Howard twisted his face into an amused lopsided smile. “I’m nothing but a washed-up old man. A has-been. You don’t need to kneel in front of me.”

“Sorry,” Steve apologized, getting to his feet. “It’s just, I’ve been searching for you for so long…!”

“How’d you know I was here?”

“Erskine helped me,” Steve explained.

“Erskine,” Howard replied. “Never heard of him.”

Steve frowned. “He said he worked with you.” He licked his lips. “He told me about some of your inventions— he told me how to find you.” He’d helped Steve track down the man with the map. The man had had no idea what the map led to, or how valuable it was. Steve had paid him a proper sum; the man hadn’t argued, but it was clear he’d been dubious about the amount.

“I worked alone,” replied Howard gruffly.

Steve exchanged uneasy glances with his crew. “Please,” he said, “All I want is the serum.”

“What serum!”

“The serum you invented, using high concentrations of vitamins, and radiation, that— it could cure so many things! Illness, deformities—”

“That thing? It doesn’t work. It’s garbage!”

Steve reeled as though he’d been slapped. “But— but I’ve _seen_ it!”

“Yeah? So have I. You know what happened to the last guy who took my serum? All the skin melted off his face, and he went crazy.”

“I know! He called himself Redskull. I fought him.”

“He was a filthy pirate.”

“Not all pirates are filthy!” Steve objected.

“I bathe regularly,” Morita volunteered.

“Look,” Howard said, “You’ve come to the wrong guy. That serum has never worked on anybody. You don’t want to peel your face off. You don’t want _any_ of my inventions. They’re all crock, none of them do what they were supposed to. They’re locked away in a vault somewhere, I have no idea where anymore, and I don’t care to. Just as long as nobody finds them, I’m happy.”

Steve was clenching his fists to keep his hands from shaking. “But I _need_ that serum!”

“Yeah? That’s what the last guy said. And look where it ended for him.” Howard turned his back to them. “No. Even if I did know where my inventions were, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Is there _anyone,_ ” Peggy pleaded, setting a calming hand on Steve’s shoulder, “who _does_ know the location of your inventions?”

Howard looked her up and down and leered. “There might be,” he said dodgily, staring at her breasts. “What’s in it for me?” He gave her what he probably supposed was a suave, enchanting smile.

Peggy smiled tightly. “I don’t punch you in the face.”

Howard snorted. “That’s not much incentive.” He turned away.

Peggy squeezed Steve’s shoulder, took two steps forward, and punched Howard in the jaw.

Howard’s head was knocked sideways by the impact. He rubbed the side of his face, wincing. _“Ow!”_ he complained.

“Don’t answer me again, and there’s more where that came from,” Peggy promised.

“I told you,” Howard said impatiently, “I don’t know.”

Peggy raised her fist.

“Okay! Okay!” Howard relented. “There is _one_ guy who might know. But he’s probably long gone, I haven’t seen him in at _least_ fifteen years. Ever since my good-for-nothing son ran away from me…”

Steve perked up. “You have a son?”

Howard snorted. “I _had_ a son. Who knows if he’s still kicking around… Could be long dead, for all I know.”

“And your son knows where your inventions are?” Steve pressed.

Howard raised his eyebrows incredulously. “Do you think I’d tell a twelve-year-old _kid_ where to find stuff that could twist your bones and rip your face off?”

“Did you?” Peggy asked, done with being patient.

“No!” Howard eyed her fist warily. “But there’s a _chance_ he still knows someone who does.”

“What’s his name?” Peggy pried.

“I don’t remember.”

Peggy’s fist tightened. She wound it back and readied her stance.

Howard guarded himself with both hands. “I really don’t remember! It was—Edward, or something. –Edmund? Edgar?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. But his last name was Jarvis. _That_ I remember.”

“So this, _Jarvis_ person,” Peggy insisted, eyes dangerous. “He knows where the serum is?”

“Maybe. _If_ he’s still alive.” Howard cowered back from her.

“Well there you have it,” she said, turning to Steve. “Mister Jarvis. I suggest we set off finding Mister Stark’s son. Shall we?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” affirmed Captain Rogers.

“So that’s it?” Bucky asked as they strode angrily back the way they came. “That senile old man is just gonna be an asshole to us, and we leave?”

“I’m not senile!” Howard called after them. “I have a _perfect_ memory,” he muttered to himself.

“What would you have me do, Buck?” Steve fumed, exasperated. “Tie him up? Punch him until he gave us answers?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s told us all he knows,” confirmed Peggy.

“But what if he’s lying?” insisted Bucky. “How do we know he’s telling the truth?”

“Because,” said Peggy, “I used to work as an international spy before I joined the navy. Trust me, he’s telling the truth.”

Everyone gaped at her.

Peggy glanced around as though wondering what all the fuss was about.

Bucky’s jaw snapped back shut. “Welp,” he said, “What the lady says, goes.”

And they left it at that.

* * *

Camp was much more sober that night. Their journey, it seemed, was destined to go on for longer than they intended.

Dugan tried to rouse some cheer by saying “It’s not all bad. We just get to travel to more places, meet more new people… The same old stuff, but we all enjoy doing it, right?”

There were mutters of assent, but overall, the mood failed to lift.

“Hey,” Bucky said. He and Steve were the only two still watching the fire die down to embers. “You gonna be all right?”

Steve put on his brave face. His smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Just frustrated,” he said.

“Yeah?” Bucky rubbed his back. “You want some ice cream or something? –I’m sure you know all the best places in the world to get ice cream. I’ll even order you just one flavor this time.”

This pried a genuine smile out of Steve. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Anything for you, Stevie.” He smiled warmly at Steve in the dim orange firelight.

“You mean that, Buck?” Steve’s face had turned serious again.

“Course I do,” Bucky replied softly. “I’d fight off a hundred men with one arm for you.”

Steve smiled sadly. “I’m sorry you had to get hurt to come see me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Don’t you blame yourself too. This thing was my fault, and nobody else’s. ‘cept maybe the woman who chopped my arm off.”

Steve snorted.

Bucky stuck his tongue out between his teeth.

Steve’s smile softened. “’m glad you’re here,” he said for probably the hundredth time. Bucky wasn’t counting.

But he was always glad to hear it. “Couldn’t stay away from you if I tried.”

“I’m sorry you don’t have a formal place among the crew yet,” Steve apologized. “I’d offer you first mate, but Dugan’s known me so long, and—”

Bucky pfff’d his concern away. “Don’t worry about it, Stevie. I don’t need a label. I’m just happy being here with you.”

“Yeah?” Steve said quietly, looking into Bucky’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Bucky confirmed, licking his lips. Steve’s eyes were awful pretty in the starlight.

Steve gave him an odd little smile. “You sure grew up, didn’t you.”

Bucky didn’t know what to make of it. “Well yeah. That’s what happens when you’re gone for ten years.”

That odd little smile turned just a bit sad. Steve stared at the embers. “You got a girl back home?”

Adrenaline stabbed Bucky through the gut. “No.”

Steve seemed surprised. “No?” He looked Bucky up and down. “A good looking guy like you?”

Bucky’s heart pounded. “I’ve dated around, but none of ‘em seemed to last.”

“Oh,” Steve said, expression unreadable. He seemed deep in thought.

“Why,” Bucky said, “do you?”

Steve frowned. “Do I what?”

“Have a girl back home,” Bucky supplied.

Steve snorted as though this thought was funny. “No.”

“Oh.” Bucky wondered at the nervous lift he felt tugging through his chest. “So…. no one special, then?”

“I didn’t say that,” Steve said, looking up at the stars. He was wearing another one of those odd little smiles.

“Oh?” Bucky’s stomach twisted. He didn’t want to hear this. “So you _do_ like someone?”

Steve glanced at him lightning-quick. “I didn’t say that.” The smile disappeared off his face.

“C’mon,” Bucky urged. “You can tell me, Stevie. Is it Carter?”

A nervous smile lifted the corner of Steve’s mouth. “No. It isn’t Carter.”

Bucky mulled over this. “Is it Dugan?”

“Dugan?!” Steve laughed incredulously. “Where did you get _that_ idea?”

“You didn’t say no,” Bucky pointed out.

“No!” Steve said, still laughing. “It’s not Dugan.”

“Hmmm,” Bucky said. “It’s not a man, then.”

Steve was quiet for a moment. “I never said that,” he relented.

“Stevie!” Bucky remarked in mock-surprise. “I never knew you had it in you!”

Steve rolled his eyes and nudged Bucky with his shoulder. “You don’t seem too surprised.” Steve seemed nervous, for some reason.

Bucky shrugged. “I kind of knew? I mean, not that you liked guys. It just seemed— you were always the kind of guy that would never judge people for feeling like that.”

Steve’s nerves ebbed a bit. He smiled lopsidedly. “You’re right,” he agreed. “I don’t.”

Bucky’s nerves were building again. He swallowed. “Steve? …There’s something I gotta tell you.”

Steve met his eyes, alert. “What is it, Buck?”

Bucky pressed his lips together. This was gonna be hard to get out… “I like guys too.” He said this very quietly, afraid of who else would hear.

Steve’s eyes perked up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bucky confirmed, all nerves.

Steve smiled. He looked into the embers for a long moment, thinking. Several emotions flickered across his face. The last one was soft. “I’ve gotta get to bed,” he said.

Bucky swallowed. He wondered if he’d said something wrong. “Yeah me too.” His eyes darted back and forth between Steve’s. “Are we…? I didn’t weird you out, or anything, did I?”

“No,” Steve answered quickly, grasping Bucky’s right shoulder. “No, don’t worry about anything we said, Bucky. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Likewise,” Bucky said, wondering what Steve was leaving unsaid.

“I just—we have a long day ahead of us. And today was pretty long, too.” He gave one of those self-deprecating little smiles. “I’m dead tired.”

“Yeah, you.. You’ve got a ship to captain, you should get your rest.”

“Yeah.” Steve searched Bucky’s face; for what, Bucky didn’t know. He gave Bucky one more little smile and squeezed his shoulder. “Good night, Buck.”

“Night,” Bucky replied softly as Steve removed his hand from Bucky’s shoulder and walked away to his tent.


	7. Chapter 7

Daniel wondered about the looks Steve kept giving him the next day. After they’d set sail, Steve gave Daniel an odd, strained smile and walked past him. He hadn’t said a word to Daniel all morning.

“Was it something I said?” Daniel asked no one in particular.

No one answered. He scratched his head as he watched the Captain’s retreating back.

Steve was avoiding Bucky. Daniel couldn’t make sense of that either. The Captain would smile sadly at Bucky, say something brief, then walk away every time they encountered each other. Each time, Bucky would stare after him, brows furrowed, eyes full of sad longing.

“Did something happen between you last night?” Daniel asked in their bunks that night. Bucky had the top bunk because out of the two of them, it was much easier for him to hoist himself up there.

“Kind of,” Bucky said quietly. Daniel could practically hear him frowning in the dark. “I, uh… might’ve asked if Steve had a sweetheart.”

Daniel’s ears perked up. “You did? What did he say?”

Bucky sighed. “He wouldn’t say either way, and he said he’s into guys. I asked if he was sweet on anyone in particular, but he wouldn’t give me a straight answer.”

Daniel clamped his mouth shut. This situation was getting ridiculous. After a long moment passed, he asked quietly, “Did you ask if it was you?”

“No,” Bucky admitted.

Daniel sighed as quietly as he could through his nose.

“And um…” Bucky added, “I kind of mentioned I might like someone too.”

Daniel reigned in his frustration. “Let me guess. He didn’t ask, and you didn’t tell?”

“Um,” Bucky said sheepishly, “no.”

Daniel sighed again.

“I couldn’t tell him!” Bucky said defensively. “What if he didn’t feel the same way? I can’t lose him like that. I don’t wanna make things awkward, now that we’ve just met again.”

“But what if he _does?”_

Daniel could only assume Bucky was contemplating this silently. All he heard from Bucky was a sigh, Bucky turning over, and then, a while later, Bucky’s steady breathing.

* * *

The next morning was weird, too.

Steve was still avoiding Bucky, Bucky was still staring after Steve. Daniel caught Steve wistfully looking at Bucky several times; Bucky was standing next to Daniel, keeping him somber and silent company.

Daniel had wandered away from Bucky to help Peggy with something, and Peggy had been called away afterward to help with something else, when Steve approached him.

“I just wanted you to know,” Steve said in a very serious voice, “that I wish you the best of luck, and I won’t get in your way.”

“What are you—?” Daniel started to ask, but Steve held up his hand.

Steve smiled at him sadly. “You don’t have to pretend. It’s okay. Really. I just want you two to be happy.”

Daniel’s brows creased in a deep frown, but he didn’t get the chance to say anything else, because after that, Steve walked away.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Peggy asked a moment later, as Daniel was staring off into space in deep confusion.

“I thought you said Steve was in love with Bucky.”

“Falling for him, yes. –Why? Did something happen?” She searched his face.

Daniel ran over the information he knew. “Steve told Bucky he has feelings for someone, but wouldn’t say who. And Bucky told Steve the same thing. And Steve just walked up to me and said he wants the two of us to be happy, and he’s been giving me these weird looks since yesterday morning—” And then it clicked. “Oh for the love of— Peggy. He thinks Bucky is in love with _me._ ”

Peggy appeared, at turns, amused and deeply concerned.

Daniel wiped a hand over his face. “This would be _so_ much simpler if they’d just talk to each other.”

“It would, wouldn’t it?” Peggy searched his eyes.

“Well,” Daniel backtracked a bit, “It _is_ terrifying to have those types of conversations.”

“But worth it,” Peggy pointed out.

“There’s always the fear that feelings aren’t returned,” Daniel pointed out, heart racing.

“But there’s always the chance they are,” Peggy said. And oh, the way she smiled.

“How does one know if they are?” Daniel searched those beautiful brown eyes.

“Ask,” Peggy said simply.

Daniel swallowed. “Peggy—”

“Peggy!” called Dugan at the same time.

“One moment, Dugan!” Peggy called, still searching Daniel’s eyes. “Yes, Daniel?”

Daniel gave her a reserved smile. “-Nothing. You go ahead.”

“You’re sure?”

Daniel glanced at Dugan, equal parts relieved and disappointed. “Yeah. I’ll talk to you later.”

Peggy scanned his face one last time before turning smartly on her heel and heading over to Dugan.

Daniel hobbled over toward Bucky, who was frowning off into the distance. “Hey Barnes?”

“Yeah Sousa?”

“I really think you need to talk to him.”

Bucky played dumb. “Who?”

Daniel made a face. “Steve just came up to me and wished us good luck with our relationship.”

“You and Peggy?” Bucky seemed surprised.

“No,” Daniel corrected, wishing that was true. “You and me.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed deeply.

“Remember how you said you liked somebody and wouldn’t say who it was? –Well, apparently, Steve has decided it’s me.”

Bucky shook his head slightly, confused.

“Steve thinks you’re in love with me.”

Bucky made a strange face then and stared off into space.

“He’s been giving me weird looks all morning,” Daniel added. “And he didn’t seem very happy about it. If anything, he seemed sad.”

Bucky’s face ticked between amusement and resolve.

“And I can’t tell you for certain,” Daniel said carefully, “but I’m pretty sure he feels the same way about you.”

“And he thinks I’m in love with _you?”_ Bucky said, clearly amused.

“Yeah.” This whole situation was giving Daniel a headache.

“Well ain’t that just grand…”

* * *

That night after dinner, Bucky quietly asked Steve if he still had any champagne in his cabin.

“Of course I do,” replied Steve, eyebrows furrowed. Steve was sitting next to him, like always, but had been weirdly distant all through dinner, and kept sending sad glances towards him and Daniel.

“I have something I need to tell you,” Bucky said in a low, furtive voice.

Steve nodded seriously and excused himself. Bucky smiled apologetically at the rest of them. Daniel caught his eye and gave him an encouraging nod. Bucky smiled his silent thanks. He followed Steve to his cabin, anxiety biting at his heels every step of the way.

He sat down across from Steve at the small table. The champagne cork popped loudly in the empty silence; Bucky could hear his own breathing, his own heartbeat, and the sound of champagne pouring and fizzing into each glass.

Steve gulped down half his glass in one go. “What is it you have to tell me?” he said, serious as a graveyard full of fresh dirt mounds.

Bucky knocked back a healthy sip of his own champagne. “I am not in love with Daniel Sousa.”

Steve’s gaze snapped up to meet Bucky’s.

Bucky tipped back his glass again, drinking until his head started to buzz. He set his mostly-empty glass down on the table. “I’m in love,” he said, “with the same person I’ve been head-over-heels for since I was six years old, when he defended some girl on the playground he didn’t even know, and I had to bandage his knee while he tried not to cry.”

“Bucky,” Steve said breathlessly.

“I’m in love,” Bucky continued, “with the guy who fought tooth and nail against pneumonia not one, but _four_ times, and managed to beat it every time, even when I was terrified his lungs were gonna give out. And I slept in that bed next to him, wishing I could take some of that fluid into my own lungs, if only it would leave him alone.”

“Bucky,” Steve said softly.

“I’m in love,” Bucky concluded, “with the same stubborn punk that got me into more fights than I can count, and who I will fight for as long as there’s breath in my body. And if there’s an afterlife, you bet your ass I’m gonna come back and keep fighting for you. ‘Cause I’m with you till the end of the line, pal. And if life goes on forever, then I’m with you for as long as that takes.”

“Bucky.” Steve set his glass down and walked around the table. He framed Bucky’s face with both trembling hands. “Bucky, I love you too.”

Bucky closed his eyes. He’s never been so happy to hear something in his entire life. “Steve,” he whispered.

“Bucky,” Steve whispered back furtively, bringing their mouths together. He wound his fingers into Bucky’s hair and tugged him close.

Bucky kissed him back for all he was worth, letting the years of emotion surge into their kiss. He pulled Steve into his lap and opened his mouth against Steve’s. Steve immediately met Bucky’s tongue with his own and settled his hips snug up against Bucky’s. His hat fell to the ground. Neither of them cared. Their breaths came short and hot against each other’s faces; Bucky could feel Steve’s crotch twitching against his stomach, just as surely as Steve could feel Bucky growing harder against his thigh.

No matter how hard or how long they kissed, neither could get enough. They kept pulling each other closer, kissing deeper, re-angling their heads over and over again to lick as deep into the other’s mouth as possible.

The sky was deep violet by the time they broke apart, gasping, long enough for Steve to whisper, “I love you,” and Bucky to whisper back, “I love you too,” before their mouths surged together once more, desperately sharing the love they’d been trying so hard to keep at bay.

Steve was holding Bucky, panting against his neck, still straddling his lap, still hard, who-knows-how-many-hours later. “Stay with me tonight,” Steve whispered. “Share my bed, just like we used to. Nothing has to happen. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Bucky whispered. He kissed all over the side of Steve’s head, Steve’s hair, wherever he could reach. His lips were sore from kissing so long, and his balls were complaining about him being hard for so long, and Bucky couldn’t care less. He wanted to hold Steve forever.

Steve held him tighter. “I don’t want to let go,” he admitted.

“Well the thing is,” Bucky said, standing up and bearing Steve’s slight weight with his one arm, “You don’t have to.” This last part came out as sort of a grunt. He carried Steve across the room to his bed— the Captain slept on an actual _bed._ Once he’d sort-of-awkwardly laid them both on the bed, he griped half-jokingly, “How come you get a bed, and the rest of us sleep on cots?”

Steve blushed in the dark. “It’s been here since before I became Captain. I’d rather sleep on a cot, like the rest of you.”

“You’ll have to share mine sometime,” Bucky murmured, nuzzling the top of Steve’s head.

Steve sighed contentedly and nuzzled closer. “Bucky,” he whispered.

“Yeah, Stevie?” Bucky kissed the top of his head.

Wordlessly, Steve brought their mouths together again. They shared a long, leisurely kiss, taking time to be gentle to each other’s lips.

Not long after, they both fell asleep.

* * *

Daniel watched Steve and Bucky walk out of the dining hall. He’d given Bucky a thumbs-up and an encouraging smile. Now his own gut was in twists. “Think I need some air,” he said in a strained voice.

Peggy frowned, concerned. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Just something I ate,” he fibbed. He cursed himself internally for saying something so stupid as he hobbled to his feet.

“Not going after the Captain, are you?” Dugan asked in a warning voice.

“No.” Daniel smiled. “Just need some air.” He hobbled out the door and onto the main deck.

“Daniel?” Peggy asked, laying a hand on his arm. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah.” He made his way to the railing and purposely took in deep breaths of fresh air. The deep breaths helped calm his nerves and unwind the knots in his stomach. This was it. “You know that thing I was gonna ask you earlier?”

“What was it?” She observed him keenly.

Daniel’s fingernails bit into his palms. “Well. Bucky’s not the only guy who needs to talk about his feelings.” He glanced at her. “And neither is Captain Rogers.”

Peggy waited, scanning his face.

Daniel turned to her, using the railing for support instead of his crutch. “Peggy,” he began, heart in his throat, “Do you think there’s a chance you could ever…? –I know I’m a guy with one leg, and you’re my superior officer, and you deserve so much more than me. Really, you deserve all the best the world has to offer. And I can’t give you that; all I’ve got is what’s on me. But that’s yours, if you want it… If you want to give this a shot…”

Peggy was smiling gently. “Daniel…” She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “I thought you might feel that way. I’m just not sure if I’m ready for that kind of relationship yet.”

The world was sinking, closing in on him. He could hear the ‘no’ in her voice.

He smiled sadly. “It’s all right. It was kind of a long shot anyway…”

“No, Daniel-!” Peggy wound an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. She rested her forehead against the side of his face. “Please… Just hear me out.”

Something in him melted, with Peggy holding him like that. “I’m all ears,” he joked, in reference to his large ears.

Peggy squeezed his shoulder again, then backed away a bit. “I was in love with someone, before I joined the navy. When I was an international spy— I traveled a lot. I’ve been to Russia, Portugal, Spain— all over the place. And there was a woman who I met, who changed my life. I hadn’t noticed I’d.. sort of lost my compassion. I was so efficient, so invested in my work, I didn’t even care anymore how many lives I took, how many people I hurt to get my job done. But I met her, and she changed all that.” Peggy’s face softened into a smile. “I was supposed to kill her. That was my mission. She was a high-profile actress with information that was deadly to the organization.

“But on the night I was supposed to kill her, everything went wrong. My cover was blown. I was supposed to establish rapport with her and take her away from the party, get her somewhere private. I'd intended to do this under the guise of friendship. But we had to flee; I was discovered, and another organization had bombed the party. She was impressed by my acrobatics, and the manner in which I saved her. She asked where I learned that. I had no choice; I had to explain the situation to her so I could get her to safety. Which was ironic, considering my mission was to kill her. But I think I knew, by that point, that I couldn’t. She was too beautiful, too trusting, too sweet and frank and— I’d fallen in love with her.”

Peggy paused for a moment. Daniel was listening, eyes soft. She continued, “When I told her I was an international spy, she grinned at me and said ‘I _knew_ you weren’t a cellist!’” Peggy smiled to herself, reminiscing.

Something in the way Peggy glowed as she talked about this woman made Daniel feel simultaneously happy and sad. “So what happened?” he prompted.

Peggy’s face fell. “I told her I was supposed to kill her, and she had to disappear. I haven’t seen her since. I don’t know if she died, if they got her that night or not, but I’d failed my mission, and that was a tipping point for me. I didn’t want to be like that anymore. I didn’t want to kill or hurt people, I got sick of all the lying. So I quit.” She smiled again, tightly this time. “I joined the navy. I was under the protection of the government. –Now, of course, I’m presumed dead, just like the rest of us, so they won’t be looking for me _or_ protecting me anymore.”

Daniel couldn’t help but wonder, “What’s her name?”

“Angie.” Peggy’s voice warmed and wrapped around the syllables like a caress.

“Pretty name.”

Peggy agreed silently. “I only knew her for a few hours. I know it seems silly, falling in love in a few short hours. But that’s how it happened.”

Daniel couldn’t manage much more than a tight smile. “And she’s stuck with you all this time?”

Peggy hugged herself. “It was just such a major turning point in my life! If it weren’t for her, it probably wouldn’t have happened. I wish there was some way I could thank her…”

“Maybe you will someday.” Daniel’s hope was fading. “Who knows? Maybe she’s still out there.”

“Maybe,” Peggy agreed. “But if she is, I’ve no idea where she’s gone.”

Daniel didn’t know what to say to that. One part of him hoped Peggy could meet Angie again to get some closure; another part wished Peggy would move on and turn to him instead. “Who knows,” he said, watching the waves with an air of defeat.

Peggy loosely interlaced her fingers with his. “Thank you for listening to me. That can’t have been easy to hear.”

Daniel held her hand a little more snugly. “Hey.” He pointed with his other hand. “I’m all ears.”

Peggy grinned and leaned their shoulders together.

“We can still be friends, right?”

Peggy nudged his shoulder with her own. “Of course we can!” she replied. “I’d be terribly sad if we weren’t.”

Daniel held her hand as though it was meant to fit within his own. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Me too.”

He sincerely hoped things were going better for Steve and Bucky.

* * *

Steve and Bucky remained in bed far into the next morning, and far into the afternoon. Steve had food brought to them on the pretense that he wasn’t feeling well, but the knowing glances Bucky was getting from the crew told him they saw straight through that bullshit. The hickeys covering his chest and neck probably didn’t help.

They held each other all day. Steve confessed he loved Bucky’s chest hair. Bucky confessed he loved everything about Steve. Steve accused him playfully of trying to one-up him and said he felt the same. They kissed.

And kissed.

And as the sun was sinking on the horizon, they kissed some more.

Steve decided sometime after sunset that their shirts were in the way. He tugged off Bucky’s shirt, to Bucky’s pleasant chuckle, and then stripped out of his own. When he brought their mouths together again, Bucky traced Steve’s torso with his hand over and over again, memorizing every dip, every angle. Steve’s hands mapped Bucky’s back with a sense of urgency. He pulled Bucky on top of him and they were kissing feverishly.

Steve decided the pants needed to go.

And then they were naked under the covers, foreheads slick with sweat, breathing hotly between thirsty kisses, marking every bit of skin they could reach. Bucky ground their hips together. He really wished he had two arms, because his right arm was holding him up, and he really wanted to touch Steve.

As though understanding this, Steve reached down between them and started stroking their cocks together.

Bucky let out a surprised, shuddery breath against Steve’s neck. Steve’s fingers were deft and nimble, his grip strong and sure. He stroked Bucky as though he’d done it a million times, until both were panting unevenly. “Bucky,” Steve breathed against his shoulder.

 _“Steve,”_ Bucky whispered, breaths growing shorter.

“Oh, _auh,_ Bucky!” Steve whispered. His wheezy little breaths rose in pitch as his pace increased, stroking them both faster until he hit a steady pace. _“Mm!”_ Steve muffled his voice by biting down hard on Bucky’s right shoulder.

That sent Bucky over the edge. As soon as he started spurting all over Steve’s beautiful torso, Steve let out a high-pitched, desperate sound and joined him.

Bucky rolled off of him, panting, and started kissing Steve’s face all over. He would’ve reached out to cup Steve’s face and tilt his head closer if he could, but he was lying on his right side. Lying on his left side hurt too much. The flesh was still tender.

Steve caught his breath and brought Bucky’s face to his with both hands, kissing him warmly on the mouth.

Bucky let out a grateful, breathy noise and deepened the kiss.

Their night passed much the same way, holding each other close, kissing until their lips were sore, and then kissing again, and whispering “I love you” and “I love you too” more times than either of them could count.

* * *

Of course they couldn’t stay in bed forever. After a few days, Steve couldn’t play the ‘sick’ card anymore, or the crew would start to get really worried. So, reluctantly, Steve headed on deck that day and informed everyone that he was feeling better, and that there was no need for concern. They sky was heavy with gunmetal gray clouds, the water eerily calm.

“Think there’s a storm on the way?” Peggy asked soberly by his side.

“Yeah,” Steve answered, frowning at a spot on the horizon. “I think so.” He took out his spyglass and examined the spot, which— _there_ it was. “We have company.”

“Friend or foe?” asked Dugan.

“Can’t tell from here,” Steve answered. “Hold your course,” he instructed the helmsman.

Captain Rogers prowled around the deck, reminding the crew of his presence, scanning the ocean for other ships, and checking the weather. A storm was definitely coming. He could feel it.

Surely enough, lightning crackled aways off, to the east.

“Shift north,” Steve instructed. This would take them slightly off-course, but they could correct for it later. What was more concerning is this led them straight into the path of the oncoming ship, which had grey-and-red sails, the biggest of which bore a red star.

“Why the face?” Daniel asked, trying to keep his tone light.

“We’re headed straight towards an enemy ship,” Steve replied grimly.

“Is there any way around it?”

“Not unless you want to sail into that storm.” Distant thunder rumbled. Steve lifted his spyglass again. The ship’s path had shifted. It was headed straight towards them. “Battle stations,” Steve announced, throat dry.

Electric adrenaline crackled through the crew. “Sir?”

“Battle stations!” Steve announced, louder. “And secure anything that needs securing. There’s a storm coming, I don’t think we can outrun it.”

The crew scurried about the deck, tying things down and flinching every time the thunder rumbled closer. It was definitely getting louder.

Steve kept checking on his spyglass.

“Ship ahoy!” announced the lookout.

“I know that!” Steve snapped. “Battle stations!”

The crew finished tying things down as the ship came into plain sight. Tiny dots of wetness speckled the deck. A drop of rain hit Steve’s forehead.

“Steve?” Bucky asked nervously behind him. “You said battle stations, but I don’t really have one…”

“Then get somewhere safe!” Steve urged. He’d rather die than see Bucky get hurt.

“Aye, Cap’n,” Bucky answered uncertainly, eyes wary.

The deck was slick with rain when the ship was upon them. Although the sea rolled worryingly underneath, the black ship with grey-and-red sails pulled up beside them. _The Kraken_ was marked in large grey letters on its side, near the rear.

Several men swung across the distance between The Kraken and the S.S. Ruckus, using ropes. Some bore swords, some bore guns. Most were armed with both.

“Where’s your Captain?” demanded one man, pointing a gun around at everyone in sight.

“Here,” Steve announced.

“You?!” the man sneered. “You’ll be easier to take down than we thought!”

“Where’s your gold?” demanded a second man. Lightning flashed, followed quickly by a loud crack.

“We have no gold!” Steve answered.

“No gold? No treasures of any kind?” The second man stepped closer. “I find that hard to believe.”

Steve held his ground, but drew his sword. “It’s true. We have no treasure aboard. We have nothing worth taking.”

“That’s not true,” drawled the first man who’d spoken. “You have a ship.”

“You’re not taking my ship without a fight!”

The second man grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.” _Clang!_ Their swords clashed together.

All around, fights broke out.

The rain picked up, as did the wind. The ships pitched dangerously underfoot as the crew fought valiantly for life and limb. Steve had no idea how well they were doing, because he was too focused on fighting off the seemingly endless stream of men that came towards him.

The last of which had cold gray eyes and a bristly orange beard. He knocked Steve off his feet and held a sword to his throat. “Captain Rogers,” he said with a voice that sounded mildly surprised. “I thought you’d be taller.”

“Who are you!” Steve demanded. His sword had been knocked aside, a few inches from his hand. If he could just reach it—

The sword touched his throat. “None of that now,” said the chillingly calm voice. “Have you found the serum yet? –From looking at you, I’d guess not.”

“That’s none of your business,” Steve retorted.

The bearded man chuckled. “Oh, but it is. You see, I’m looking for it too. And you’ve been searching for it for _so_ long. If anyone has clues to its whereabouts, it’d be _you._ ”

“I thought you wanted my _ship_ ,” Steve countered.

“Your ship means nothing to me.” Two men grabbed Steve, one from either side, and hoisted him to his feet. They tied his hands behind his back. All the while, the man with the red beard held his sword to Steve’s throat.

“Then why don’t you leave it, and my crew?!”

The man smirked. “Because if I did that, they’d come after you. And we can’t have that, now can we?”

Steve paled. “If you lay one hand on them, you’ll never hear a word from me! I’d sooner cut my tongue out than tell you anything!”

“It’s a bit late for that.” The man with the red beard let Steve see the broken, bleeding bodies of his crew. Several men on both sides had been killed in the fight. The only ones who were obviously still alive were Dugan, Peggy, Daniel, and Bucky, all of whom had drawn close to each other during the fight and were currently standing in a tight circle, facing outward.

“Don’t kill them!” Steve pleaded. “Please!”

A grinning man held a sword to Peggy’s throat.

“Does the woman mean something to you?” the red-bearded man asked as though only idly curious.

“They all do. And if you kill them, I _will kill myself_ before I help you!”

The red-bearded man considered this. “Klaus!”

The man holding the sword to Peggy’s throat turned his grin on his captain. Steve was startled to notice the man’s face was permanently stitched into a grin.

“Spare the lady.” He was silent for a moment. “And the others. Knock them unconscious and bind their wrists. Bring them on-board.”

“But what about my ships?!”

The red-bearded man smiled coldly. “Oh don’t worry about that. What’s left of my crew can tow your ship to a nice harbor and have it repainted. I’m thinking… _black.”_

Something knocked Steve on the back of the head.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for trigger warnings!

Steve woke up in a dimly lit wooden room. The floor was lined with straw. A rat was gnawing on his boot. He kicked; the rat scurried away.

“Steve?” croaked Bucky.

“Bucky!” Steve lunged at him, only to discover his wrists were still bound. He fell face-first onto damp hay. He spat out what he was pretty sure was rat feces.

Bucky shuffled over and untied Steve’s wrists. It took him some doing, considering he only had one hand.

“Where are the others?”

Bucky didn’t know. “I woke up a few seconds before you did.”

Judging by the roll of the deck and the relative quiet, the storm had dissipated. Steve felt the pressure around his wrists ease. He jerked them free and rubbed at where the rope had left red welts. “They didn’t hurt you did they?”

“No. At least, not that I know of. The idiots _did_ try to bind my wrist behind my back though.”

Steve pulled a face and shook out his wrists. “Serves them right. –I wonder why they put us in a cell together, and not with the others?”

“Because we wouldn’t fit,” answered Peggy’s voice from what Steve could only guess was the cell next to theirs.

“Peggy?” he called.

“I’m here, Steve.” Her voice was close, probably just on the other side of the wall. Fortunately, the front walls of their cells were bars, if Peggy’s cell was anything like his own, so he could hear her clearly. “Dum Dum takes up half of this cell by himself,” she explained.

Dugan grunted. “Not _my_ fault they didn’t build a bigger cell…”

“Is Daniel all right?” Steve asked.

“Leg’s got a few new notches in it,” Daniel answered, “Fortunately though, it’s just the wooden one.”

“Did anyone else survive?”

There was silence for a moment. Then Peggy said, “…I think we’re the only ones left.”

“That’s two for one,” Daniel quipped. “Wonder what’s gonna happen _next_ time we get on a ship.”

“I hate to break it to you,” said Bucky, “but we’re already _on_ another ship.”

“Joke’s on them,” Daniel replied.

“We’re the only survivors?” Steve asked for clarification. “Gabe Jones? Jacques Dernier? Jim Morita?”

“Haven’t seen ‘em,” Dugan replied solemnly.

“I saw Gabe,” said Daniel in a sober voice. After a pause, he added. “Didn’t make it.”

Heavy silence fell over the group.

Bucky drew Steve into a tight embrace. Together, they mourned their lost crew mates.

A while later, Peggy said in a wet voice, “At least we still have each other.”

“Aye,” agreed Dugan, sounding equally glum, “I’ll drink to that.”

“You have _alcohol?”_ asked Daniel incredulously.

“No,” admitted Dugan, sounding much more glum. “But if I did, I’d drink to that.”

“You drink entirely too much as it is,” joked Peggy, a bit of happiness creeping into her otherwise teary voice.

Dugan laughed and sniffled.

“Is everyone all right?” Steve asked, his arms around Bucky, his cheek resting against his chest, and those now-familiar curls of chest hair.

“Just hungry, Captain,” answered Dugan.

“Yeah. Wonder what they’ll feed us?” mused Daniel. “I hear prison fare is usually bread crusts and water.”

“I saw a rat earlier,” Bucky offered, chest rumbling pleasantly beneath Steve’s cheek. “If all else fails, we can catch those.”

“Yes, but how would we cook them?” Peggy pointed out.

“Just eat it raw,” Bucky joked.

“And to think I wanted to taste your home cooking,” Daniel muttered, presumably to Peggy.

Peggy chuckled.

A door creaked down the hallway. Footsteps approached. A gangly man with several golden teeth leered at them. “I see you are awake,” he observed. “Is anyone hungry?”

Dugan’s stomach grumbled loudly.

The man grinned. “Good. The Captain wants you all _nice_ and hungry when he comes to talk to ya. How ‘bout the rest of you? Hungry?” He eyed them all with glee. “A few more hours oughtta do it.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out.

A short moment later, the door at the end of the hallway creaked open again, and several crusts of bread bounced down the hallway. The door shut again. Immediately, a swarm of at least a dozen rats descended upon the bread crusts and devoured them.

Steve’s stomach grumbled.

Bucky rubbed his back. “It’s gonna be all right, Steve,” he said quietly.

* * *

The captain’s voice woke them several hours later. Steve’s head ached and his stomach felt hollow. He’d been using Bucky as a pillow. “Well now,” the captain said, “I trust you are all finding your stay comfortable?”

“Fuck off,” said Dugan.

“Isn’t that interesting.” The captain smiled coldly at Dugan. “You must be hungry,” he said, affecting a voice that almost sounded compassionate. “Just tell us what you know about the serum, and we can have you freed and fed in no time.”

Bucky’s stomach gurgled beneath Steve’s ear. Bucky’s arm tightened around him though.

Steve sat up and jutted up his jaw defiantly. “I’m not telling you a word until you feed me and my crew.”

“That’s not how this works, _Captain,_ ” replied the man with the red beard. “You acquiesce to _my_ requests. Not the other way around.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You seem very attached to your crew, _Captain_ ,” the bearded man sneered. “We could kill them one by one in front of you, if you like.”

“Kill them, and I tell you _nothing._ ”

“You aren’t going to tell me anything anyway,” the man responded. “But,” he said, stepping closer, “I am a reasonable man. I can’t have you dying of starvation. You’ve got about…” He looked at the pocket watch chained to his jacket. “A month.” He pocketed his watch again. “Until then, you’ll have to do with water. And Captain,” the man added as he started to walk away; he paused. “I’d be careful if I were you.” He shot a withering glance at Bucky, then left.

The door shut behind him with a sense of finality.

“What was that about?” Peggy wondered aloud.

“What?” Daniel asked cluelessly.

“Well, I couldn’t see who, but he was glaring at _some_ one.”

“It was me,” Bucky said tightly, his arm forming a protective shield around Steve’s shoulders.

“If he hurts you,” Steve said, voice low and trembling with rage.

“Same to you, pal,” Bucky replied, holding him closer.

“If that scoundrel tries to hurt _any_ of you, he’s gonna regret it,” vowed Dugan.

“Agreed,” Peggy said with the same tone of ferocity.

* * *

The captain didn’t visit them again for several days. Every morning, they woke up to find a bucket of water in their cells. The water was dirty, and they had to repeatedly chase the rats away, but at least they had something to drink.

All of them were starting to truly stink, and they were all quite hungry. Steve and Bucky didn’t have the energy to do much more than hold each other, and exchange the occasional kiss.

One of these kisses was interrupted by a man standing in front of their cell. Steve hadn’t noticed the man standing there, but Bucky had, and he glared at the man and flipped him off while still kissing Steve.

The man had disappeared. Two minutes later, he’d been replaced by a group of men, the foremost of which was large and hairy and missing a tooth. “We hear you like men,” he said.

Bucky glared at the man. He was holding Steve as protectively as he could; Steve was so tiny and bony and weak. Bucky may be hungry enough that even the rats were starting to look good, but he would defend Steve to his very last breath if he had to. “We don’t like _you,_ ” Bucky growled.

“Well that’s a pity then,” the man at the front announced, opening their cell. “We was gonna release you.” He stepped in. The rest of them crowded the doorway.

“Steve?” asked Peggy. “What’s going on?”

“Maybe we’ll have a little fun with _her_ after,” sneered a gangly man with a thick black mustache. The group advanced on Steve and Bucky.

“Stay away from him!” Bucky growled.

Two men tore Steve away from Bucky and restrained him. The other five pinned Bucky down and flipped him on his stomach.

“Bucky!” Steve yelled.

“Bucky!” mimicked a man with a brass-and-bronze clockwork hand. The gears whirred as his fingers clenched around Bucky’s arm.

“Leave him alone!” Steve growled. “If you lay one hand on him—!”

“Tell it to the Captain,” sneered the man on Steve’s left.

Something- a knife, Bucky thought- ripped open the seat of his pants. His blood ran cold.

“Don’t think I won’t!” Steve shouted. “I’ll tell him every last detail!”

“That won’t be necessary,” said the man with the red beard, who was now standing calmly outside their cell. “Prep him.”

Something cold and wet prodded Bucky’s anus. He couldn’t see what it was, but it felt like a carrot, or a stick of wood. Whatever it was, was roughly shoved inside his rectum in one brutal move. Bucky cried out in pain.

“What are you--?! Why?! _Bucky!!”_ Steve screamed.

Whatever had just been shoved inside him moved in and out, causing Bucky to clench and whimper and squirm. The hands holding him down pressed harder.

“I’ll tell you anything,” Steve pleaded. “Just stop!”

“This has nothing to do with your little treasure hunt,” the captain said coldly.

Whatever the carrot-or-stick thing was, was gone. Instead, Bucky felt his legs being spread, and two knees pressed against the sides of his thighs. “Please,” Bucky sobbed, “No!”

A zipper unzipped.

Cruel laughter erupted from various throats.

And then Bucky was being impaled by some stranger’s penis.

The man smelled awful. “You like being fucked by men?” he kept saying. “You a fucking queer?” He was large and hairy. His hands were grubby. He had black hairs on his knuckles. Bucky didn’t want to know any of these things.

“Stop!” Steve kept pleading. “Please! Stop! I’ll tell you anything!” He started rambling about what the serum did, and who worked on it, and how the last man who knew anything about it was Howard Stark. He told them where Howard was and how to find him.

The man stopped thrusting and peered at the captain.

 “Thank you for your cooperation,” the captain said. “Dinner will be here shortly.”

“Does this mean you want me to stop?” said the grotesque man straddling Bucky.

“No,” replied Redbeard. “He’s earned his punishment.”

Steve screamed pleas and obscenities as the captain stood by and watched, with cold satisfaction, as the fat, hairy man pounded into Bucky until he came. Bucky knew he’d remember those horrible grunts forever.

The men left Bucky lying there face-down. The two restraining Steve released him and closed the door behind them on their way out.

Steve rushed to Bucky’s side. “Bucky! Bucky I’m so sorry. Are you all right? Bucky, please! Speak to me! Bucky! Are you all right!?”

Bucky flinched. “He—! He—! Right _inside_ me, Steve—!”

“Bucky, I’m so sorry!” Steve threw his arms around Bucky and pulled him close. “I’m so sorry!”

“’s not _your_ fault,” Bucky said. He was trembling. Tears were running down his face; he couldn’t seem to stop them.

“Yes it is!” Steve insisted. “If I’d told him about Howard straight off, none of this would’ve happened!”

“You heard the man, Steve,” Bucky said tiredly, his voice sounding oddly far away, “This had nothing to do with the treasure.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s still my fault. We need to be more careful, I didn’t know—! Bucky, I’m so sorry!” Steve was sobbing into the back of Bucky’s hair.

* * *

That’s how Steve was holding Bucky when the man with the thick black mustache came in with their dinner. He slid it through the bars of their cell with a sickly grin. “Up for some more, eh?”

Steve held Bucky protectively. “Don’t you dare!”

“Ain’t much stopping us, poppet.” The man leered at him.

“Please!” pleaded Peggy from the next cell. “Whatever it is, don’t! Take me instead. You said you wanted me, right?”

“We can do you too if ya want, miss.” The man grinned.

“That’s not what I—” Peggy started, but was interrupted.

“The Captain don’t take kindly to queers.” The man glared at Steve and Bucky, leered at Peggy, and left.

“It’s okay, Steve,” said Bucky as Steve comfortingly stroked his hair and held him close. “I’d rather they take me than you, any day. I can take it again. ‘m just sore.”

“No! Bucky, how can you say that?! That was horrible! Nasty! They pinned you down—Bucky, how can you say that was okay?!”

“It wasn’t,” Bucky granted, “but I’d still rather it be me than you.”

Later, when he was being restrained and Steve was sobbing for mercy as Bucky was forced onto his stomach again, he hated every moment of it. He hated their smelly dicks and their dirt-smeared hands, the way they cackled and jeered. He hated the calm way Captain Redbeard watched, the cold way he said, “Prep him.”

Bucky hated every moment of it.

But he was still glad it was him rather than Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter:  
> -Rape  
> -Starving/Malnutrition (not voluntary)  
> -Torture


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end notes for trigger warnings!
> 
> Or the lyrics to Gay Pirates by Cosmo Jarvis, either will do!

They were fed, but other than that, circumstances remained the same. They were locked in two adjacent cells, there were rats everywhere, and every time they so much as caught Bucky _looking_ at Steve, another gang rape was staged.

And it was always Bucky.

Some mornings, Steve and Bucky would wake up to the smell of fresh piss in their hay.

Sometimes in the middle of the day, they’d restrain Steve and bludgeon Bucky with clubs until he was bruised all over. They seemed to take perverse joy in Steve’s screams and pleas for them to stop.

Bucky discovered one day that his shoes had been stuffed with glass. When he moved to take them off, the man with the mustache warned that if he did, he’d make Steve pay. So Bucky was forced to wear the shoes all day. The man with the thick mustache, the fat man, and the man with the mechanical hand all took gleeful turns making him stand and dance. But every time he moved to take off his shoes, they shot warning glances at Steve. The fat man rubbed the front of his pants. And so Bucky was forced to dance.

But he was still gang raped by all of them that night.

Still. At least it wasn’t Steve.

One night, there was a lot of noise on-deck, and it occurred to them that they’d stopped moving.

“I have no more use for you,” announced Captain Redbeard in front of their cell. Two men came in and tied Steve’s hands behind his wrists again, and led him out.

“What about me?” Bucky asked. The cell was shut behind Steve. Bucky stood, despite his shoes being filled with glass again. They were leading Steve, Peggy, Dugan, and Daniel down the hall. _“What about me?!”_ Bucky screamed, clutching the bars.

“Bucky!” Steve called behind him, fighting against the men on either side of him.

“You,” the captain answered, “We have use for.”

Steve was struggling too hard, so they knocked him unconscious.

 _“Steve!!”_ Bucky screamed, reaching out for him.

The door slammed shut.

* * *

They were escorted on-deck. It was dark, only the barest sliver of the moon showing in a cloudy night sky.

Howard was escorted past them. “I told you!” he said, “I don’t know nothin’!”

The pirates ignored him and herded him into the lower part of the ship, back from where they’d just come.

“You four are useless to us,” announced a short, round man with a monocle. The side of his face was covered in metal, and he had one robotic, red glowing eye. “But ve can’t have you chasing after us.”

Daniel and the others were blindfolded.

“So ve are going to take you out to sea, and ve are going to throw you overboard.” Daniel could hear the man’s grin in his voice. “Nothing personal.”

“Why take us out of our cells if you’re just going to throw us overboard? Why not just kill us?” Daniel regretted the words the moment they left his mouth.

“Because ze Asset needs to be isolated.”

Daniel frowned deeply. He asked, “What do you mean by that?” but no answer came.

* * *

Daniel had no idea how much time passed after that. Any attempt at conversation with Peggy or the others was cut short forcefully by angry pirates. They were fed, and given water, but their blindfolds remained in place, as did the ropes binding them to the mast.

Finally, they were released from the mast, but their wrists were still bound. And one by one, they were forced out onto the dreaded plank.

He could hear Steve causing a ruckus behind him. Someone pushed Daniel into the water. He barely had time to take a breath before he hit the ocean with a splash.

A rush of water next to him told him he wasn’t alone.

He tried to swim with no hands, but it was difficult. His wooden leg wanted to float; he had no idea which way was up. Someone grabbed the back of his wrists, and somehow, he and the other pair of hands—they felt like Peggy’s—worked him free of his bounds.

They broke the surface and removed each other’s blindfolds. Dugan was treading water not far away. “Peggy?!” he shouted. “Daniel?!” He was facing the wrong direction.

“Over here, Dugan!”

He swam towards them. Peggy removed his blindfold. “Has anyone seen Steve?”

“No.” Dugan frowned. “Have you?”

“No,” Daniel affirmed, a cold knot in his gut.

“You boys stay here,” Peggy said, “I’ll go look for him.” She dove underwater.

Daniel frowned. He had to fight to keep his leg from floating. “How did you get free?”

“Of what? The ropes around my wrists?” Dugan grinned. “I cut through those _ages_ ago!”

“I feel like we should look for him,” said Daniel, frowning at the water.

“Me too,” admitted Dugan, “but what Peggy says, goes.”

They treaded water for a minute before Peggy broke the surface a few yards away and swam towards them. She shook her head. “I can’t find him.” She took another deep breath and went under.

A minute later, she re-emerged. There were tears running down her face. “Once more,” she insisted. She dove.

And emerged, alone. She sniffled. “I can’t find him.” Her face crumpled. “I can’t.”

Daniel and Dugan swam closer to her.

There was nothing they could do.

* * *

Bucky was alone in his cell, screaming himself hoarse after Steve, when the door re-opened. He thought, hopefully, that they were going to release him as well.

Instead, he was surprised to see the old, slightly hunched figure of Howard Stark being escorted into another cell. Bucky didn’t see which one. Wherever it was, it was far enough away that he couldn’t hear their conversation—just the smack of flesh being slapped.

He was given no attention except meals for the next few days. Not a word was spoken to him. No one even made eye contact with him. He thought, with relief, that at least the gang rape was over. There wasn’t piss in his hay, or glass in his shoes. He wasn’t being beaten.

But every time someone came down the hallway, he demanded, “Where’s Steve?!”

They never answered.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter:  
> -Physical Torture  
> -Psychological Torture  
> -Implied/Referenced Rape


	10. Intermission

King Odin lived in a magnificent kingdom under the sea. He had two sons who couldn’t be more different.

The first son was magnificent and strong and had long flowing golden hair, a booming laugh stronger than a whale’s call, and a glimmering red tail. He was loved and adored by all. He was arrogant, and boastful, but underneath it all he had a heart of gold.

The troubling thing about this son was that he had an infatuation with land-dwellers. He collected various paraphernalia having to do with the land-creatures, including maps, statues, navigational instruments, and various other knickknacks. King Odin thought it was all useless.

Thor had tried to explain to his father, with a smile and a laugh, how interesting they are. He wished to live among the land-dwellers, to reenact their old treaties with them and start up negotiations once more.

King Odin had forbidden this. The land-dwellers had grown wary of merpeople. They were seen as magical, mystical. To most, unreal. King Odin wished to keep things this way. It was much safer. Thor didn’t understand that King Odin was only trying to protect his own people.

The king’s second son was Thor’s exact opposite. He had pale skin, dark silky hair, a voice soft as an ocean current, and a shimmering green tail. Loki hated the land-dwellers. But then, Loki hated pretty much everyone.

King Odin kept a dark secret from Loki. Loki had been part of a treaty with the mermaids of Jotunheim in the Pacific Ocean. Odin had saved the king’s infant son during battle. The king of Jotunheim had said Loki was a runt, and would never amount to anything. Odin had promised he would, and said he would raise him.

So far, Loki was proving to be… difficult. He frequently bickered with his brother. His sole purpose in life seemed to be playing pranks on everyone in the palace. Loki’s soft laughter frequently bubbled throughout the palace when one servant or another discovered their dinner had come back to life, or their hair had disappeared.

King Odin was glad Loki had found something to bring him joy, but Loki frequently complained that he felt out-of-place.

The peace treaty had been solidified, but the king of Jotunheim had long since voiced complete disinterest in ever taking Loki back; the king had had a much stronger, more capable son, and this son was now the crown prince.

Thor and Loki had passed into adulthood. King Odin was aware that he was growing old, that one of his sons would take over his throne soon, but Thor was still too reckless yet to take the throne. He was the clear choice; it was his right by birth, he was older, and he was well-loved. He swam with the bearing of a king. Loki preferred the shadows. Thor preferred the sunlight—a little too much. Thor’s visits to the surface were growing more frequent.

Frigga, his queen, suggested something to him one night as they lay on their giant golden clamshell bed. “Why don’t you _let_ Thor try living on the surface?”

“What?” Odin turned to her, taken aback.

She explained with a quiet, level voice, “He loves the land-dwellers. Perhaps if he knew more about them, we _could_ reopen negotiations with them. Or perhaps he would learn exactly why you _don’t_ want to reopen negotiations. If we try to shield him from them forever, it will only strengthen his will against you. He will think you old, and foolish. And you may be old,” she said with a little smile, “but you are anything but foolish.”

Odin rolled over and stared at the high ceiling of their bedchamber. “Let him live among the surface-dwellers?” he mused.

“You certainly know enough magic to grant him his request.”

“I don’t want him to think we’re giving in to his will,” Odin said. “He needs to know I am in charge. I _will_ be obeyed.”

“Then set terms for the arrangement! Tell him it’s a coming-of-age rite.”

“But then Loki will want it too.”

“Tell him in secret. Tell the rest of the kingdom that your son has set out on a coming-of-age journey and won’t be returning for some time, and not to be alarmed by his absence.”

“…Very well,” Odin said, trusting his wise wife. “I will tell him tomorrow.”

* * *

Thor was overjoyed. “I get to live upon the land?!” he enthused. “To learn their ways? To speak with them? To learn their language?!”

“Yes,” granted Odin, “Provided you remember our terms.”

“Of course I will, father!” He wanted to shout to everyone that he was going to be _on land!_

“Come with me,” Odin commanded. “We don’t want you to drown. They cannot swim very far.”

“Yes, father!” Thor beamed and swam ahead of his father, then back, circling and laughing and saying, “Come on, father!”

King Odin swam to shore at his own pace. He knew there was no one living on this island, and hadn’t been for years. They were close enough that, if they had legs, they would need only to go a few feet below the surface to graze the bottom with their toes. Odin had never understood the function of toes; he thought they were unnecessary. Fins were so much better.

“Turn around,” Odin commanded.

Thor turned around gleefully.

Odin lowered his scepter towards his son. The scepter glowed; a trail of magic flowed towards him. Thor floundered in the water for a moment as his tail morphed into a pair of strong legs.

Thor learned quickly how to thrash about with his new legs and grinned at his father. “Look! I’m swimming!”

“So you are,” Odin agreed. “You’ll be wanting clothes, I can’t magick you that.”

Thor laughed. “Of course, father!” He threw his arms around his father’s neck and hugged him. “Thank you so much!”

Odin patted him awkwardly on the back. “You are welcome. And remember, if you need to return—”

Thor backed away, grinning. “I know, father. I only need say the words.”

Odin nodded and patted his son’s shoulder. “There’s a good lad.”

Thor beamed and did a somersault in the water. It was more difficult without his tail.

Odin shook his head fondly as the boy swam towards shore. He wondered what he was getting himself into.

* * *

Thor had been warned that being human meant he could no longer perform magic, but this mattered little to him. None of the other humans could perform magic, and he did not desire to make himself an outcast.

Surviving without magic was a little more difficult.

Walking took getting used to.

At first Thor wobbled quite a lot, not used to the new weight his body bore. In the water, he’d always been able to move so freely. On land, everything seemed so much _harder_.

But he grew used to it. He learned what he could eat, and what he could not. He found he could no longer breathe underwater; his gills were gone. The webbing between his fingers was diminished. Instead of being troubled by this, though, Thor embraced the changes.

Walking around naked didn’t bother Thor in the least. This was how he had always lived, with his bare chest thrust out for all to see. He did fashion himself a small covering out of leaves to hide his _human bits_ , which were as delightful as they were unwieldy. He’d never had such tender parts before. His tail had been covered with such hard scales.

The one problem Thor faced was that this was, in fact, an abandoned island, and although he had learned how to use his new body, there was no one around to share it with. There was no one to talk to. And although he had walked the perimeter of the island, the next island over was too far to swim to.

He was ecstatic when a ship landed there.

He’d been collecting wild fruit when motion caught the corner of his eye; a ship was sailing towards him. He’d run to the sandy shoreline and waved his arms, shouting welcome. When the ship landed, not twenty yards away, he ran towards it shouting _“Hello!”_ in his native language. This seemed to startle and confuse the men on-board.

 _“It’s all right!”_ Thor called out, beaming. _“I mean you no harm! My name is Thor!”_

The man in the purple shirt with the quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder turned to the man with the goatee, in the red shirt, with the parrot on his shoulder. “Dude… what’s he saying?”

“I have no idea,” responded the man with the goatee.

Thor ran towards them, naked except for the leaves tied around his waist. He kept shouting greetings and reassurances, realizing only belatedly that he was making them uncomfortable.

“Do you speak English?” asked the man with the goatee. He spoke fast.

Thor thought about this for a long moment. “Oh!” he said in English. “English!” He pointed at them, beaming. “You are English!” he said slowly, proud of his poor grasp on the language.

“American, actually,” corrected the man in the purple shirt.

Thor sounded out the syllables on his tongue. “American?” He’d never heard of ‘American.’

“Yeah,” said the man in the purple shirt. “You know… like, from America?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” said the man in the red shirt quickly, “but you don’t seem like you’re from around here. Or maybe like you’ve spent your entire life on this island. Which is impossible, because I’m _sure_ we would’ve noticed you before.” He looked Thor up and down, clearly impressed by his muscles.

Thor grinned. “I am from Asgard!”

A third man jumped down from the ship, wearing a rumpled green shirt that was a size too big for him. He had equally rumpled-looking brown wavy hair, and if Thor remembered correctly, they were called… _glasses._ “Did he say he’s from Asgard?” the man asked curiously.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh no you don’t. I told you, that’s _myth._ That is the stuff of _bedtime stories._ There is no such thing as Asgard.”

“Of course there is!” Thor boomed.

The rumpled man straightened his glasses. His eyes flicked between Thor and the other two men. The man in the purple shirt shrugged. “Pardon me for asking,” said the rumpled man in a quiet, almost nervous voice, “but if you’re from Asgard, how come you have legs?”

“My father gave them to me!”

The man in the red shirt pulled the man in the green shirt closer by the collar and hissed, “Don’t tell me you actually _believe_ this bullshit!”

“Well how else would he end up on this island?” the man whispered back.

“I don’t know! Maybe he was marooned here! He’s clearly not all there in the head!” The man with the goatee twirled his finger in a ‘loopy’ sign near the side of his head.

The parrot piped up helpfully. “My dear sir,” he said in a voice like British tea, “What a pleasure to meet you.” The parrot held out his foot.

Thor grinned and shook the parrot’s foot between two large fingers and his equally large thumb.

The man in the red shirt watched this exchange with disbelief. “Not you too, Jarvis!”

“So the bird is named Jarvis!” Thor said happily. “Hello, Jarvis! I am Thor!”

The parrot bobbed his head in a bowing motion. “Pleasure to meet you, Thor.”

The man in the red shirt rolled his eyes. He held out his hand to shake. “I’m Tony, nice to meet you.”

Thor delightedly shook his hand.

“And this is Clint, and Bruce.” Tony indicated the two other men. “And that scary woman with the red hair walking towards us is Pepper.”

Pepper was fuming. “Why didn’t you help me? You _know_ it takes a full crew to dock this ship! I had to do that _all_ by myself while _you_ boys were—who is this?”

“Pleasure to meet you!” boomed Thor.

Pepper blinked at him in shock. She was dressed smartly in a primarily black-and-white ensemble, featuring poofy sleeves and knee-high boots. She let him shake her hand.

“This is Thor,” Tony explained, “of Asgard.”

Pepper’s eyes widened. “Asgard?!” She looked Thor up and down. “But that’s the stuff of _legends!”_

“Yeah,” Tony said, “well, unless someone else can offer an explanation for how he ended up on this island and why he’s so—clueless and.. _naked_ , now would be a great time.” He looked around at them. Clint remained in silent awe. Bruce remained in silent reverence, eyes sparkling with curiosity. Pepper remained agape. “…No? All right then.”

* * *

Thor was not exactly what one would call ‘brilliant.’ Therefore, Loki wasn’t exactly worried that Thor was gone for so long. If _Loki_ had been the one missing for such a long period of time, everyone would have been on guard. But this was Thor, who everyone liked, and everyone trusted. When Odin came back and announced that Thor had embarked on a coming-of-age journey, Loki was further relieved that he wouldn’t have to deal with Thor’s thick-headedness for that much longer.

For the first time in weeks, Loki was allowed to swim in peace.

There was no one to bother him, no one to talk his ear off about how great humans were or how fascinating this or that annoying little factoid was about them. No more about forks, or dancing, or how great it must be to have _legs_.

Loki never understood the purpose of legs. Why walk about so jauntily when swimming was so much faster, so much easier? And knees were so ugly. Not as ugly as ankles, which, by turn, were not as ugly as toes. No, Loki thought, legs were one of the ugliest things in all the seven seas.

Usually, Loki preferred the deeper water, and only ever surfaced at night. But that day, he’d caught a warm ocean current and was letting it take him along for the ride, and he was rather enjoying himself, despite how close it swept him to the sun-warmed surface.

He had no intention of emerging.

But then he saw _the boy._  


	11. Chapter 11

The large, dark form of a ship loomed overhead, and four people had just been thrown from said ship. Loki passively observed two of them free each other. One of them— a male— seemed to be struggling to control one of his legs. He swum very awkwardly. The other— a female—  swum as gracefully as someone with legs could.

The third, a whale of a man, had swum in the wrong direction before joining his companions. Loki rolled his eyes at his stupidity.

And then there was the boy. Thin, small, with blond hair and too-large clothes, the boy had sunk lower than the other three. He was not moving.

Loki wondered why this boy did not try to swim, like the others. The woman dove and searched for him more than once, but her eyes were not accustomed to the water. They could not see as well, or as far, as Loki’s could.

Loki realized the boy was going to drown.

This shouldn’t bother him. What was one human life? Humans drowned all the time. He’d found their stinking bloated bodies before, polluting his ocean.

Loki spotted the unmistakable shape of a shark swimming towards the lifeless boy.

For whatever reason, that spurred him on. Loki swam to the boy and enveloped him in a protective bubble. He gave the boy air to breathe, until the boy coughed up the water he’d inhaled. _Really, land creatures were so fragile._ The boy remained limp and unconscious, however, even after he’d coughed up his water.

Unconscious, but not dead.

In the interest of getting this boy out of his water and somewhere where he wouldn’t rot or bother Loki any more, he surfaced near the boy’s companions. “I believe this is yours,” he said in Asgardian, because he knew not what language they spoke.

The woman’s eyes widened and she reached out for the boy. “Steve!” she said.

“Are you his mother?” Loki asked softly.

“What’s he saying?” asked the portly man in English.

Loki despised knowing this tongue. He’d spent far too much time with his brother. “I said,” he said, switching to their dreaded, clumsy language, “Are you his mother?”

“Oh! Definitely not!” exclaimed the woman. Which was odd, considering the way she’d cradled his face, and the way the man with the awkward leg had swum near her.

He glanced between them. “You are not his parents, then?”

“No,” said the man with the awkward leg. “He’s our captain.”

Loki sighed. Why humans would follow a mere child was beyond him. “Why were you thrown from your ship?”

“It wasn’t our ship,” said the portly man. “We were captured.”

“And this was their way of letting you go,” Loki murmured.

“Exactly,” said the woman.

“How… unfortunate,” Loki concluded. “You’ve nowhere to go, then? No ship is coming to rescue you?”

“I’m afraid not,” said the woman.

Loki wanted to strangle whatever being was responsible for this day. He had an unconscious child in his arms and three useless humans who he just wanted _out of his sea._

“Hang on,” said the portly man, “are you a _mermaid?”_ He was looking down in the water at Loki’s tail.

Naturally, the oaf had pointed out the obvious. “How else would I have gotten here?” Loki sneered between curled lips.

“A mermaid!” repeated the woman, glancing down into the water. She seemed impressed, but not terribly surprised.

The man was looking at them both like they were crazy, but he, too, glanced down in the water, and his eyes widened with disbelief.

Loki didn’t need a reminder for why he stayed away from the surface, but these people were definitely providing it.

“For short periods of time,” Loki said, patience wearing thin, “I can transform myself into a different form. If I change into a whale, will you climb—” his nose wrinkled with distaste “—into my mouth, so that I can find a place to deposit you?”

The trio all exchanged shocked and bewildered, questioning glances.

“Aw heck,” said the portly man. “I’m game.”

“And I thought this day couldn’t get any weirder,” muttered the one with the odd leg.

Loki took this as permission. He deposited the boy in the portly man’s arms, backed away, muttered the incantation, and transformed into a huge whale. He opened his mouth, baleen dripping with salt water, and waited until he felt them climb— _gods_ that felt strange!—into his mouth.

* * *

Night had fallen by the time Loki found a ship. It was large and wooden, with all the letters but “A” scratched out on the side. He was relieved, because he couldn’t hold his whale form much longer. He opened his mouth for them to see. They were close enough that if they shouted, the people on the ship could hear them.

Loki rippled with magic.

The people in his mouth seemed to understand, and climbed- thankfully- out of his mouth.

Loki transformed back into his regular form, relieved. He was quite tired. “They should be able to hear you from here,” he said, voice faint.

“Are you all right?” asked the woman.

“I am tired,” Loki responded tersely. “Using magic for long stretches of time is quite exhausting.”

The ship was sailing slowly towards them.

The portly man started shouting. He was joined by the woman and the man with the awkward leg; the boy remained limp and silent.

Someone on the ship shouted back.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Loki said. He just wanted to go home. Or to sleep, somewhere. _Any_ where.

“Please,” said the woman. “What is your name?”

Loki was terribly light-headed. “Loki.”

The woman smiled at him. It was a kind, genuine smile. “Thank you, Loki.”

Loki remarked with surprise upon the beauty and the goodwill behind her smile. Shortly afterward, everything went slow and a bit spotty, and he’s not entirely sure, but he thought he might have faceplanted into her breasts just as he passed out.

* * *

“Brother!” boomed an all-too-familiar voice. Loki groaned. _No._

The idiots had brought him on-deck. He was laying on a ship, sunlight glaring upon his face. At least Thor had retained brains enough to keep his tail wet; otherwise Loki would currently be _dead_.

“That’s seriously your brother?” remarked a male voice with skeptical amazement. The next thing Loki was aware of was a two-headed shadow bending over him and examining him closely. “I don’t see the resemblance.”

Now that the man’s face was blocking the sun, he could see that the man was heart-poundingly handsome and had energetic brown eyes and a clean-cut goatee. The ‘second head’ was, in fact, a parrot. The man was examining him far too closely. He could smell something sweet on his breath. Sweet, and dark, like his eyes.

“Who are you?” Loki whispered, mouth barely moving.

“Who are _you?”_ the man countered. “According to Thor here, you’re Asgardian. Which— if you didn’t have a tail, I’d say he was full of it. But here you are, and you two obviously know each other, so the only thing I’m left thinking is, there’s something to that.”

“We are… brothers,” Loki replied, feeling odd warming sensations he’d never felt before. He wondered if the human had him under some sort of spell.

But that was impossible—humans had forsaken magic long ago.

The man’s energetic brown eyes danced back and forth between Loki and his beaming brother, Thor. “I still don’t think you’re related,” he said as he got to his feet. They were… surprisingly not-ugly, for feet. Still feet, but… “-My name is Tony.” He held out his hand. “Tony Stark.”

“Stark!” squawked a new voice Loki hadn’t heard before. The blond boy ran up to Tony with wide eyes. _“The_ Tony Stark? Son of Howard Stark?”

“Uh,” said Tony, “Yeah?”

The blond boy was practically crying with joy. “Do you know a man named Jarvis?”

* * *

Steve had awoken slowly, not at all sure where he was. He sat up abruptly and shouted, “Bucky!!”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” wondered a voice Steve had never heard before. The voice belonged to a man in a purple shirt.

“Oh thank goodness, you’re awake!” exclaimed Peggy. She bundled him into a tight hug and held his cheek against her chest, petting his hair. “We were so worried!”

“Yeah, Peg,” Steve said, recovering, “I’m awake.”

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. “So glad you’re all right,” said Daniel warmly.

“Steve’s awake?!” bellowed Dugan. His shadow blocked out the sun.

“Where’s Bucky?” Steve croaked.

The trio fell silent.

“He… He’s still on the ship,” Peggy explained in an apologetic voice. “They threw us overboard. But they kept him.”

Steve pushed himself away from Peggy. “We have to go back.” He sat up. “We have to save him!”

“Brother!” Thor bellowed unexpectedly.

All four of them turned, surprised, at the unexpected declaration. Thor was standing over the body of a— “Is that a _mermaid?”_

“Yes,” Peggy answered calmly. “He saved our lives.”

“I think he prefers the term ‘merperson’,” pointed out Daniel.

“Right,” Peggy corrected.

A man in a red shirt with a parrot on his shoulder bent over the merperson and started bombarding him with questions. Then suddenly he announced his name was Tony Stark.

Steve leapt to his feet and ran towards him. _“The_ Tony Stark?!” He couldn’t believe his ears. “Son of Howard Stark?!”

“Uh,” responded the man with the goatee. “Yeah?”

“Do you know a man named Jarvis?”

Tony glanced sideways at his parrot. “….No?”

Steve deflated. He felt, a moment ago, as though he’d been a balloon filled with hope, and now…

“He’s got a parrot named Jarvis,” pointed out the man in the purple shirt.

Steve’s heart pounded. “What’s his first name?”

Tony frowned at him. “Uh. _Jarvis._ ” He seemed annoyed.

Steve gulped. He wondered, for the first time, if perhaps Howard had been lying to them. He’d seemed honest at the time, but what did Steve really know? Other than that the man was a retired inventor, and that he’d invented a serum which Steve had been searching for his entire life.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” said the parrot in a smooth British accent, holding out a foot for Steve to shake.

Steve shook the parrot’s warm, scaly foot. “Pleasure’s all mine,” he said, feeling nauseous.

“I do hate to interrupt this thrilling moment,” said the merperson, rolling his eyes, “but would you mind throwing me back in the water?”

Thor pouted. “But brother! You just got here!”

Loki gave Thor a long-suffering glare. “I’ve been here all night, and I do not wish to remain here any longer.”

A man in a rumpled green shirt was playing with his fingers and staring at Loki’s tail. “You’re sure you don’t want to stay for just a little while?”

Loki tugged his tail closer to himself. “I’m quite sure.” He narrowed his eyes at the bespectacled man.

“Fine with me,” Tony said. He lifted the merperson into his arms bridal-style. Loki’s eyes widened; he blushed and held onto Tony’s neck. Tony grunted. “You’re heavier than you look!” Before Loki had time to voice his indignance at that remark, Tony unceremoniously threw him overboard. “Bye, Loki!”

Loki surfaced and made a lewd gesture with both hands.

“Farewell, brother!” boomed Thor.

Loki dove under the surface and swam away.

* * *

Naturally, Odin was wondering where Loki had been last night.

When Loki explained, however, Odin got this interesting look on his face which Loki didn’t like at all. The next thing he said was, “Why don’t you keep an eye on Thor?” He rubbed his long white beard with one hand. “Make sure he stays out of danger.”

“But father,” Loki objected. “Thor is more than capable of taking care of himself!”

“Yes,” Odin granted, “underwater. But he is on land now, and should he need magic, _you_ could provide that for him.”

Loki groaned. “Why didn’t you just assign him a royal guard in the _first_ place?”

Odin slammed the butt of his scepter against the marble floor of the throne room. “Do not question me!” he bellowed. In a softer voice, he said, “Consider this your coming-of-age rite.”

“To babysit my elder brother?”

“To spend some time learning about humans.” Odin said this with a sense of finality.

Loki was very upset about this. Of all the merpeople he did _not_ want to spend time with, Thor was a solid number one.

Frigga laid a kind hand on his shoulder. “It will be good for you,” she said. “You’ll have the chance to make some new friends.”

“I don’t _want_ friends!” Loki objected petulantly.

“Very well,” Frigga said with a smile, “It will give you a new audience on which to play your pranks.” She swum around him as she spoke. “And opportunities to learn new ones… To learn the strengths and weaknesses of others, to see what makes them tick…”

Loki’s mouth spread into a slow grin. “You know me too well, mother.”

Frigga squeezed his shoulder. “Now go.”

Loki kissed his mother on the cheek and bid her farewell.

Feeling slightly less awful about it, he made his way back to the ship with the letter “A” on it.

* * *

“So that’s it?” Clint was saying. “You are an actual, real-live mermaid?”

“Asgardian,” Thor corrected, beaming. They had coaxed him into a shirt and trousers, but Thor was still getting the hang of wearing clothes. His shirt was very open.

Thor’s physique was _very_ distracting. Everyone’s eyes kept wandering. Thor seemed very pleased with this.

“And that was your brother,” said Clint, who seemed incredulous and amused by this.

“Yes!” Thor beamed proudly.

“You guys,” Clint said, grinning, “We just threw an Asgardian prince overboard.”

“You think _that’s_ something,” said Bruce, “We have the heir to the Asgardian throne standing _right here._ ” Bruce was regarding Thor with awe. “I didn’t think magic existed,” he admitted. “I had my suspicions about Asgard, but this— this is incredible!”

“He certainly is something,” agreed Peggy, admiring his physique.

Thor was beaming down at her in a way Daniel didn’t like at all. “He certainly is,” Daniel agreed tersely. “And that parrot’s named Jarvis? Do you think he knows where the serum is?”

The parrot clicked out an odd rhythm, bobbing his head.

“The serum?” Tony repeated. The parrot clicked again. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“A serum your father invented,” explained Peggy. “Steve has been searching for it his entire life. He found your father and—”

“Wait, hang on. You _found_ my _father?!”_

“Er,” said Peggy, “Yes. He was—”

Tony advanced on her. “Where?! You found the rotten scoundrel?! Where’s he _been_ all this time!?”

“On an island off the coast of South America,” Daniel responded calmly.

Tony’s face went pale. His eyes snapped with rage. “That fucking bastard. He’s been alive all this time.”

Peggy frowned. “You thought he was dead?”

Tony gave her a strange look. “Of _course_ I thought he was dead! _Every_ one did!”

“Not everyone,” Peggy murmured, glancing at Steve, who was feeling Thor’s flexed bicep. Steve was pretending to be more interested in Thor than the conversation, but Peggy could feel Steve’s attention focused in their direction.

Tony gritted his teeth. “That fucking bastard _abandoned_ me when I was twelve years old. He left me to fend for myself with nothing but this fucking parrot. And all this time, he’s been living it up on a tropical island?!”

“That’s not how he told it…” Peggy was beginning to wonder how much of what Howard said was true.

Tony barked a bitter laugh. “I’ll bet it wasn’t. He probably fed you some sob-story that made him seem all pitiful, and make you want to wrap him in blankets and give him free stuff. He’s _always_ doing that.”

Peggy exchanged a sideways glance with Daniel.

“All right,” conceded Daniel, “maybe he did. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s alive out there, or that he’s been captured by the same men that are holding Steve’s… -best friend, captive.”

“Wait.” Tony held up his hands. “Back up. He’s alive, he’s been living on a tropical island, you _spoke_ to him, and now he’s been captured by _pirates?”_

“Cruel men,” Dugan added, watching Steve as he pretended to be fascinated by Thor’s back as Thor flexed in various positions. “You can’t imagine what he’s been through.”

Tony shook his head. “No. Whatever that bastard brought upon himself, he deserved it. We are _not_ going after my father.”

“But what about Steve?” Peggy said, eyes full of compassion.

“Not my problem,” Tony said.

Daniel’s jaw clenched. “Will you at _least_ help us find the serum?”

The parrot clicked again.

“I don’t know anything about my father’s inventions, other than that he invented them. I don’t know where they are, or what they are. And I’ve never heard of this _serum._ ”

Jarvis clicked again.

“Wait.” Peggy held up her hand. “Jarvis, what was that?”

Jarvis bobbed his head.

“What?” Daniel looked at her.

“He does it every time someone says ‘serum,’” Peggy explained. She held up a hand when Daniel was about to speak again, because the parrot was clicking again.

Peggy’s eyes widened. “It’s morse code!” she exclaimed. “Those are coordinates!”

“What coordinates are they?” asked Dugan, standing closer. “Serum,” he said seriously.

The parrot clicked again.

Peggy listened, eyes wide. “I need a map.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve is not actually a child. Loki just perceives him as such because of his diminutive stature and the general air of innocence about him. We all know Steve isn't as innocent as he comes off, but Loki doesn't know that yet. He realizes Steve is older than he initially thought once he hears Steve's voice.


	12. Chapter 12

Peggy had marked down the coordinates on a map and was poring over it with Steve.

Steve was frustrated. “Look, I’m grateful for your help, but what we really need to be concerned about it Bucky. This serum-” (Jarvis clicked in the background) “-can wait. Right now we need to find him and make sure he’s okay. Which, considering how they treated him, seems unlikely.”

“Steve. I know how much he means to you, believe me, I do. But we can only do so much.”

Steve glared at her with steely eyes. “We _are_ going to find him.”

“Of course we are,” Peggy soothed. “But that’s going to take some time. Look,” she pointed at the map. “We’re close. We could be there within the week.”

“A week?! Who knows what Bucky will have gone through by then?!”

Peggy closed her eyes. “Probably a lot. But they said they needed him, so they won’t kill him.”

“Oh. _That’s_ comforting.”

Tony snorted.

Steve glared at him.

“Steve, we’re going to do everything we can to find him. We’ll send word out to everyone we can at the nearest port. But you’ve been searching for this serum for so long! Aren’t you the least bit excited to be so close?”

Steve’s traitorous heart pounded. A part of him _was_ excited. “We’ll spread word at the nearest port,” he repeated warily.

“We will,” Peggy confirmed.

“Hey, what’s that?” Clint said, pointing at the water.

Steve, Peggy, Tony, and Thor joined Clint at the side of the ship. They followed his finger. In the water, glaring at them, was Loki.

“Brother!” boomed Thor ecstatically.

“Brother,” repeated the velvet-silk quiet voice of Loki. He was glowering.

“And now we’re joined by tall, green, and sullen,” said Tony. “Perfect.”

“How do you know he’s tall?” said Clint. “He doesn’t have legs.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “He has a long torso! Long arms, long fingers.. Long hair! The guy is tall.”

“He only came up to my knees sitting down,” Clint pointed out.

“Yeah, but if he had _legs,_ ” Tony was saying.

Steve ignored them. “Why did you come back?” he asked Loki quietly.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Loki sneered. His green eyes rested, more often than not, on Tony. Steve wondered if perhaps Tony was part of the reason Loki had returned.

“Why did Father not turn you human, as well?” Thor wondered aloud, confused.

“Because _some_ of us don’t _want_ to be human, you oaf.”

This only seemed to confuse Thor further.

“Well it’s a pleasure to have you back, Loki,” Peggy called.

“I’m sure,” Loki muttered sullenly.

Steve wondered…

He had an idea.

After the excitement of Loki rejoining them had died down, Peggy brought Steve’s attention back to the map. “Will you do it?” she asked.

“I guess,” he said. “I’m just not sure if Tony wants to help us out with this.”

Tony was conversing fervently with Bruce about something apparently merpeople-related. They kept gesturing to Loki and Thor.

“I’ll help you,” volunteered Pepper.

Steve and Peggy turned to her in surprise.

“I’ve heard of you, Captain Rogers. You’ve built up quite the reputation. Some people have been calling you Captain America.” Pepper smirked. “I’ve heard you spread freedom everywhere you go.”

“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” Steve said. “If I’ve managed to help people.. then I’m doing my job.”

Pepper smiled. “And it’s my honor to help you.” She took off her three-point hat and set it on Steve’s head. “Welcome aboard, Cap.”

Steve smiled at Pepper, a warm feeling spreading through his chest.

“Wait,” said Tony, who was distracted from his conversation by the action. “Is he Captain now? You can’t just make him Captain!”

Pepper rolled his eyes. “I’m still in charge,” Pepper announced, “I’m just lending him my hat.” She bent down and whispered to Steve, “Don’t let him get to you.” She squeezed his shoulder and resumed her place back at the helm.

* * *

Steve waited until everyone else was asleep. He tiptoed on-deck and peered around cautiously. The only person there was Clint, who waved casually at him and went back to picking something out from under his fingernail with a sword.

Steve waved back and slunk away to the side of the ship where he’d last observed Loki. He leaned over, elbows against the railing. “Loki,” he called quietly.

He scanned the water. He didn’t see him.

_“Loki,”_ Steve whispered more loudly.

Loki surfaced and glared at him curiously. “What?” he whispered back. “Come to gloat at my exile?”

Steve frowned. “Exile?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Never mind. You could never understand my pain…”

“Um. Maybe not, but.. I need to ask you something.”

Loki gave him a long-suffering glower. “Ask away.”

“Is there any way you can help me find someone?”

Loki scanned his face, curious. “…Perhaps.”

“His name,” Steve said, “is James Buchanan Barnes. He’s my best friend, and… and I don’t want to go another day without him. I’d thought I’d never see him again, and now— please. I don’t have much to offer you, but whatever you want, I’ll find a way to make it happen. Please. I just— I need to find him. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

Loki’s eyes had softened. Not much, but nevertheless, they had. “What if I want something you cannot give me?”

“Then I’ll find someone who can.”

Loki contemplated this. “…Where did you last see him?”

“On a ship called The Kraken. Somewhere in the Atlantic, near South America. –I can give you coordinates, if you want.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Loki replied. “I saw the ship.”

“You did?!” Steve leaned farther over the railing.

“When I rescued you,” Loki elaborated. “You nearly drowned.”

“Oh.” Steve deflated a bit. “So… you don’t know where it is?”

“No.” Loki was silent for a moment. “But I can find it.”

Steve perked up, filled with hope. “You can? –You will?”

“I make no promises,” Loki warned, “but I can try. Provided you hold up your end of the bargain.”

“I will do anything it takes,” Steve promised vehemently. He would swear on both his parents’ graves if that’s what it took.

Loki considered him. “I’ll hold you to that.” With that, he dove under the surface.

* * *

Searching for one ship alone was a foolish endeavor. Ships traveled relatively slowly, but they were so small in the scheme of things.

Fortunately, Loki was not searching alone.

He wasn’t sure what it was about the blond boy with the deep voice, but something about him inspired trust. Loki didn’t know yet what he was going to make the boy pay for this favor, but he was certain he’d think of something suitably unobtainable. It’s not often he was promised anything he wanted.

Loki spoke with every sea creature he found and told them to spread the word. By tomorrow morning, the entire region would be on alert for The Kraken. No matter how far away the ship had sailed, Loki would find out in a matter of hours if someone found it.

He kept questioning, while he was doing it, why he was doing this favor. The land-dwellers were frustrating and stupid. They had ugly legs and strange customs.

But that one man named Tony… Every time Loki beheld him, he was overcome with the strangest feelings. Like he was swimming over a coral reef in bright sunlight. Like he’d just pulled a prank that went particularly well.

He’d never felt this way before.

It was quite disconcerting.

Between the strange enchantment held by the man called Tony, and the sudden trust inspired by the blond boy called Steve, he was beginning to question land-dwellers in general. Were they truly as despicable as he’d always thought? They poisoned his waters, killed his friends. They fought over pointless things. They thought they owned whatever land they landed on, like the earth was just some dead thing they could claim. As if someone could _own_ any part of this earth.

Arrogantly, they had named its oceans, its continents, regardless of what others had named them.

And then they had pointless wars over who owned which regions of land.

Yet here he was, doomed to accompany a group of land-dwellers until his idiot brother was done learning whatever it was he was supposed to learn. Given how thick his brother was, this could take _years._ And his father had neglected to consider one thing: what happened when his brother was on land, and not on a ship? How would Loki accompany him then?

He shuddered at the image of being toted around in a wagon full of water while his bumbling brother stomped on ahead, beaming at everybody.

Why, oh why, had he been consigned to this fate?


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one. Contains frostiron

Steve tried to feel excited that they were sailing towards the treasure he’d been seeking for so long, but his heart leapt to his throat every time he saw Loki swimming beside the ship. Steve clung to the railing with white knuckles. But below him, in the waves, Loki just shook his head ‘no.’

They stopped very briefly at a bustling port to pick up supplies. Just as Tony had promised, they spread the word that they were looking for a man named James Buchanan Barnes, last seen aboard a ship called The Kraken. Many kind-hearted people promised to keep an eye out for him, and to send word if he was found.

Steve felt slightly reassured, but it was still difficult to sleep. He tossed and turned every night, plagued with nightmares of Bucky being beaten, or raped, or worse. He woke up in a cold sweat multiple times, breathing harsh and unsteady, crying out Bucky’s name.

On these nights, Daniel would rub Steve’s back and tell him everything was okay. He’d ask if Steve needed Dum Dum or Peggy.

It was comforting, burying his face against Daniel’s strong shoulder, or Dum Dum’s soft stomach, or Peggy’s soft chest. They all held him and stroked his hair, muttering reassurances.

Pepper kept Steve company during the day. She shared her spyglass, since Steve had lost his in the battle with the Kraken. They took turns wearing her hat; she usually lent it to Steve whenever he was feeling particularly down. He liked that she smelled like honeysuckle, and that her face freckled in the sunlight. He liked even more that she took absolutely none of Tony’s bullshit and was always putting him in his place.

Peggy and Daniel were rarely seen without each other. Sometimes Daniel would watch her in a way that was bittersweet and resigned, but usually when they were together, they were both happy. They still sat next to each other at meals, and always shared each other’s food.

Dum Dum had caught onto this and would occasionally ask for some himself.

At first they were surprised, but Peggy saw no harm in it. And so they shared.

Not that there was any shortage of food on Tony’s ship, and Tony found the habit disgusting. But Pepper said “waste not, want not,” and that was the end of his griping. He still made grossed-out faces at them though.

Steve admired Thor. He ate as much as Dum Dum, and seemed absolutely fascinated by everything. He’d given up on shirts entirely. Sometimes he’d wear one tied around his shoulders like a cape, but that was the closest he came to covering his magnificent torso.

Steve had admitted to him one day that he envied his physique. Thor had grinned and told Steve that he need not fear, someday he would grow big and strong like Thor.

Steve didn’t think Thor entirely understood. But the man was so well-meaning and jolly, he couldn’t dislike him.

Thor and Dum Dum struck up an immediate friendship. Peggy found it both touching and amusing.

Another thing Steve noticed was that Tony was visiting the side of the ship more and more frequently. At first he wondered, sympathetically, if Tony was seasick.

But no— he was just looking over the side.

He and Bruce would often confer together in hushed voices, and Tony would gesture over the side, or at Thor.

Steve thought, perhaps, this was simply a scientific fascination.

But there was the niggling feeling that there was something more to it than that.

* * *

They were nearing land. By morning, the men on this ship would be treading on an island where Loki could not follow. To his horror, he realized he was actually going to  _miss_ their company, particularly the company of the humans called Tony and Steve.

Steve was so earnest and hopeful in the search of his friend. Loki began to feel genuinely crestfallen when he had to shake his head and indicate that no, there had been no sign of him yet.

Loki was passively floating next to the ship in the moonlight when a figure peered over the side of the ship. “Loki,” he whispered.

“Tony,” he replied.

“How are things going in the fish-world?” Tony asked. “Anything interesting?” He took a bite out of an apple and crunched it quietly.

“Is that idle curiosity,” Loki asked, “or are you genuinely curious?”

Tony shrugged one shoulder. “Just making conversation.”

“I wonder why you would want to _just make conversation_ with me,” Loki mused.

“Um. Because you’re a fucking _mermaid?”_

“Technically, no. I’m not. Mermaids are female.”

“Not like I’m an expert at sexing mermaids,” Tony scoffed, taking another bite of his apple. He talked around the apple in his cheek. “-Not that I’d mind learning, mind you.”

Loki smirked. “I’m sure I have _much_ to teach you.”

Tony grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “So how do you…?” He held the apple between his teeth and made a lewd gesture with both hands.

“How do we have sex?” Loki guessed.

“Yeah,” Tony said around his mouthful of apple. “That.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Loki teased.

“No seriously, how _do_ you? Because you have a tail down there. There’s nothing to penetrate, and nothing to penetrate _with_. Do you just like… mush your tails together? Slap tail fins? Is there an orifice I don’t know about?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “No. The females lay eggs, and the males spray them with sperm. Just like any other fish.”

“What do you spray the sperm with?”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “An aforementioned orifice you don’t know about.”

Tony swallowed his mouthful. “Can I look?”

Loki blushed. “Why on earth would you want to see _that?_ There’s not much to look at anyway…”

“Now you’re just being modest.” Tony crunched on his apple again. “Seriously. I wanna know what’s down there.”

“Are you--?” Loki’s digestive tract fluttered in a way he was unaccustomed to. “- _propositioning_ me, Stark?”

“Maybe,” Tony agreed. “You up for it?”

“I…”

Tony turned his head, held up a finger at Loki, and walked away from the side of the ship. Loki heard him say _“really_ bad time, Rogers.” Hushed conversation ensued, followed by a sigh, and finally, retreating footsteps.

Then Tony was back. “Sorry ‘bout that. You were saying?”

Loki licked his lips. “I was saying… I suppose it couldn’t hurt?” He had no idea what Tony intended to do to him.

“Okay, awesome. Thanks. Next time I’m down there? We are _totally_ doing that.”

“…Sure,” Loki agreed, feeling— _giddy._

“So you have a girlfriend?”

Loki wondered what was the point of this line of questioning. “No,” he admitted. “I do not have a life-mate.”

“You don’t?” Tony’s voice went up in pitch. “Huh. –So no girlfish whose eggs to fertilize? No boyfish to pointlessly exchange bodily fluids with?”

“Are you always such a romantic?”

Tony cracked up. “-Is that a no?”

“I already told you. I have no life-mate.”

“So you’re totally free then.”

“Unless you count being the son of the ruler of Asgard, yes. I am free.” He wondered at Tony’s odd definition of ‘freedom.’

“Just wanna make sure I’m not pissing anyone off when I _examine_ you.” Tony took the second-to-last bite of his apple.

“This goes beyond your scientific curiosity, then?”

“Oh trust me, I am plenty _scientifically_ curious about your body.” Tony finished his apple. He tossed the core overboard. It bobbed a few yards away from Loki, then sank slowly. “Aren’t you scientifically curious about _mine?”_

“No,” Loki replied flatly. He had no scientific curiosity whatsoever about the bodies of humans, because he had already seen plenty of documentation on their history, their cultures, their discoveries, and their anatomy, and that was more than enough to sate any curiosity he’d ever had.

Tony seemed oddly disappointed by this answer. “Well,” Tony said, “Good night Loki.”

He had disappeared from the side of the ship before Loki’s soft “Good night, Tony” could reach his ears.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for this chapter:   
> -brief mention of an animal being prepared as food, followed by a discussion about whether/why not people are willing to eat or prepare meat  
> -mentions of rape/sexual harassment  
> -needles

Pepper plopped her three-point hat on Steve’s head. “Until we leave this island,” she announced, “Captain Steve Rogers is in charge.”

Tony protested.

Pepper warned him off with an abortive sound. “I will be taking the position of co-captain, but unless I say otherwise, what Steve says goes. Got it?”

Clint shrugged. Bruce fiddled with his glasses and looked at Tony. Tony frowned at Pepper.

Jarvis saluted Steve with his foot. –Well, sort of. He raised it and ducked his head and sort of scratched his forehead with it, balancing wobbly on his other foot, but Steve took it as a measure of goodwill and said, “Thank you, Jarvis.”

Tony glared at his traitorous parrot.

“Pleasure to serve you, sir,” said Jarvis politely, bobbing his head in a sort of bow.

Steve saluted Jarvis.

“Where to, Captain?” said Clint.

Peggy answered. She was holding the map. “We head north, until we hit this stream.” She pointed at a stream on the map. “After that, we follow upstream until we reach this rock formation, turn left, and after that it’ll be in one of these caves.”

“You heard the lady!” Pepper announced. She pointed her sword ahead of them. “We go north!” She turned to Steve.

Steve smiled at Pepper and led the way, with Pepper following a half-step behind.

* * *

The journey was long and hot, and humid from their proximity to water. Tony complained a lot. Dum Dum told him to stuff it.

They found the rock formation Peggy had pointed out on the map. By then, the sun was setting. “It’s pointless to go into the caves while it’s so dark out,” Peggy pointed out.

“It’s going to be dark in there either way!” Tony remonstrated. “They’re _caves._ ”

“We wait until tomorrow,” Steve said.

Pepper gave Tony a warning look.

Tony’s mouth snapped shut. He looked to Bruce for backup.

Bruce scratched the back of his neck and pretended to find the bark of a nearby tree absolutely fascinating.

Tony looked at Clint.

Clint was talking to Steve about something, gesturing with a low voice and mimicking the action of shooting an arrow with his bow. Steve nodded. Clint grinned and walked away with the promise of, “Be right back!”

“Is he going to hunt?!” Thor boomed excitedly. “May I accompany you?”

Clint winced. “No offense, big buddy, but you’re a little loud.”

Thor crumpled, crestfallen.

“We do need firewood,” Steve said, giving Thor a sympathetic little smile.

“Firewood.” Thor sounded out the syllables. He frowned into the distance, thinking.

“Yeah,” said Tony. “Wood? That you set on fire? Fire? Wood?”

“Perhaps you’d like to go with him,” Pepper said pointedly, looking at Tony.

Tony groaned and pouted. “But Pepper-!”

“That sounds like a fine idea,” agreed Peggy.

Pepper smiled at her and stood closer, so they were shoulder-to-shoulder. They both smiled at Tony.

“That’s not fair,” Tony whined. “You can’t use your feminine wiles against me.”

They both gave him pointed smiles.

Thor was staring about cluelessly.

“My genius is wasted on you,” Tony grumbled, heading towards the trees. “Come on, big guy.”

Thor followed him.

The rest of them set up camp.

Clint returned with a small deer and set about skinning it near the river; Steve averted his eyes.

Peggy sat closer to him. “You all right? You look a little green.”

“Always feel bad about eating something that has a face on it,” Steve explained.

“But you’ve eaten meat before..?”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “After it was processed.”

Peggy nodded in understanding. “So it didn’t look like an animal anymore?”

“Exactly.”

“You should’ve seen the look on his face when we offered him pig’s head!” joked Dum Dum.

Steve paled.

“I’m the same way,” admitted Pepper, taking a seat on Steve’s other side. “If it even looks like a body part, I just can’t eat it.”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” admitted Peggy. “I’ve skinned them myself.”

Steve flinched towards Pepper.

Pepper put a reassuring hand on his knee. “I’m sure you have,” she said to Peggy, “but now might not be the best time to talk about that. –You all right Steve? Want to go somewhere else until he’s done?”

Steve swallowed. “I’ll be okay.”

Pepper squeezed his knee. “All right. But you tell me if you’re not, okay?”

Steve said nothing, just stared at the ground.

Tony and Thor returned with the firewood. They were both laughing about something. Heads turned curiously. Upon seeing the ridiculous load of firewood Thor was carrying, and seeing Tony carrying three small logs, they understood part of the source of their laughter.

Thor unloaded his logs in a proud pile and boomed, “Will this do?”

Pepper blinked, eyes wide. “That— that’s quite enough, Thor,” she said haltingly, blotches forming high on her cheeks. “..Thank you.”

Thor beamed.

Soon, they had a roaring bonfire going.

Steve was grateful for the support of Pepper and Peggy, and the friendship of Daniel and Dugan. He was amused by Thor’s confusion and excitement towards the mundane. Thor made everything seem fresh and new, like a child embracing the world for the first time.

But despite the excitement hovering in the air, Steve couldn’t help wonder where Bucky was right now, and whether or not he was all right.

* * *

Bucky wasn’t sure what they were doing to Howard down the hallway; all he knew was Howard kept screaming. The hoarse cries echoed off the empty prison walls.

_Just cooperate with them,_ suggested one voice in his head, while the other urged, _Keep fighting._

Fighting was pointless.

But if he stopped fighting, that would be letting them win.

He glared at the men every time one of them walked past his cell. Frequently, they’d stop and ask, “What are _you_ looking at, ya fairy?” or “You like what you see?” and leer at him, rubbing their crotch.

It seemed they always found some excuse to gang rape him.

“He looked at me funny!” “Did you see the way he was lookin’ at me earlier?” “I saw him lookin’ at my crotch!” “He wants it.”

Every night, four men held him down while another raped him from behind.

The captain always stood by, watching with cold detachment. Bucky’s blood ran cold every time he heard the words, “Prep him.”

Bucky learned to just let his mind go blank. It was the only way to escape the horrible sensations, the pain, the humiliation, the _smell._ The sounds of the man panting over him. The laughter. It all faded into the background when he let himself go into a catatonic state.

He’d stay there, on his stomach, staring at the wall for hours afterward, mind completely blank.

Days passed with Howard screaming down the hallway. Occasionally he caught the odd phrase, like “don’t know anything!” or “don’t know where it is!” or “I don’t know, something with vitamins!”

One day, the screaming stopped.

Bucky wondered absently why it was so quiet for a while, before he realized. Howard wasn’t screaming anymore.

The man with the monocle and the robotic eye visited his cell that day. “Ve are going to give you a gift for your cooperation,” he said.

Bucky frowned. He wondered what he meant by ‘gift.’ And ‘cooperation.’

“Come here,” the man said. “I must hand it to you.”

Bucky glared warily at the man. “Why can’t you bring it in here?”

“It is delicate,” the man explained.

Bucky scanned the man all over, trying to find what he was offering.

“Careful, Asset,” he warned. “One might sink you _vanted_ me in zere.”

“In your dreams,” Bucky grunted.

The man smiled coldly. “Zen come here.”

Bucky wondered what new torture awaited him when he reached the bars of his cell. He glared down warily at the bald little man.

“Hold out your hand,” the man urged.

Bucky knew he was going to regret this. He held out his hand, watching the man carefully.

The man grabbed his hand with one of his own, and with the other hand, stabbed a needle into his arm and injected Bucky with something before he could yank his arm away. Something burned in his veins. Bucky screamed.

He kept screaming as the man released his hand. His heart rate sped up. He felt like he was burning from the inside out. He screamed and clawed at his own skin, threw himself against the walls, fraught with unspeakable agony.

He was dimly aware of the calm words, “How interesting,” before the pain became too much, and, a scream choking off in his throat, he blacked out.

* * *

Bucky woke up in a pool of his own blood. A rat was chewing at his left shoulder. He tried to shoo the rat way, but the rat just kept gnawing. He had to tear the rat away, ripping a strip of his own flesh away with it. To his mild surprise, he couldn’t feel it.

He did, however, feel it when the rat bit his hand before scurrying away.

Bucky clamped his hand over his shoulder. Blood oozed slowly between his fingers. He wondered if this would kill him.

Maybe there _was_ an afterlife.

Maybe he’d join Steve.

Bucky’s hand eased on his shoulder.

…But maybe they were lying, maybe Steve _was_ out there somewhere. Maybe he was alive, and needed his help.

Bucky’s hand tightened over his wound; he called out.

The chubby man with the monocle and the robotic eye strolled to his cell, steps slow and purposeful. “I see you are bleeding,” he observed.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

The man’s robotic eye whirred. “Do not worry. Ve vill fix zat for you.” His smile was just as chilling as his voice.

“Fix what?” He didn’t like that tone of voice at all. “What are you saying?”

“Patience, Asset.” They all called him that now. “I must fetch my supplies.”

Bucky frowned deeply. The odd glint on the short man’s monocle made his gut twist.

The man came back accompanied by three men, two of which were carrying a heavy crate. They all entered his cell. They set the crate down with a thud. Straw shifted in a whoosh of air, wafting the stench of stale urine and rotting organic material into the small space.

One of the men—the man with the robotic hand—opened the crate.

“Zis might sting a little,” the man with the monocle said. He ripped open the rest of the stitches on Bucky’s left shoulder.

Bucky screamed in pain.

An array of tools and metal objects flashed in the dim light of the prison cell.

Without warning, something wet was splashed on Bucky’s left shoulder, followed immediately by a searing pain. Bucky screamed again.

“Zere is still too much damaged flesh,” the man with the monocle said, peering at the bleeding wound.

“Shall we cut it off?” asked the man with gold in his teeth.

“Cut away all of ze damage,” the man with the monocle confirmed, standing.

Gold teeth gleamed. A huge cleaver hacked at Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky screamed.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for this chapter:  
> -mention of past rape

Bucky woke up in a pile of fresh hay. He had a massive headache, and his shoulder felt… odd.

Bucky sat up and glanced at it. His eyes widened.

Protruding from his left shoulder—covering a good part of his shoulder, too, all the way to his collarbone—was a brass-and-bronze metal arm.

He wasn’t sure what made him try to flex his fingers, but when the metallic fingers shifted, he startled so hard his head hit the wall behind him.

Breathing heavily, Bucky lifted the metal arm. He flexed it this way and that, heart pounding faster and faster. It moved just like a real arm. Bones and muscle had been replicated by brass and bronze metal clockwork. He had no idea how it worked, or why. He had no idea why they’d given it to him.

But suddenly, he had _a metal arm._

“Oh good,” observed the calm voice of Captain Redbeard. “It works.”

Bucky stared at the captain. “What did you do to me,” he rasped.

“We gave you a gift!” the captain replied. “The Asset deserves only the best.”

“If I deserve the best, why am I still in this rotting cell?”

The captain raised his eyebrows and gestured at the floor. “We gave you fresh hay.”

Bucky’s mouth twisted. “Fresh hay ain’t gonna compensate for beating me and raping me every night.”

The captain’s eyes hardened, cold and cutting. “You deserve that. You know the rules. No queers on this ship.”

“Guess you’d better throw the guy who keeps sticking his _dick_ in me overboard then.”

“I would, if I thought he enjoyed it.”

“Oh trust me,” said Bucky coldly, “He does.”

The captain considered this for a moment. “I’ll look into it. –But you _do_ know getting rid of him won’t change anything, don’t you? Any queer activity from you, and you _will_ be punished.”

“I know,” Bucky said, breaking eye contact.

“There’s a good boy,” the captain said. “Zola will be in shortly to tighten the screws on your arm. I suggest you cooperate.”

_Like I have much of a choice_.

* * *

The humans had been on the island for an entire day, and Loki was hanging about near the shoreline, feeling bored and pointless. He wasn’t disobeying the King by not following them onto land; sure, he  _could’ve_ turned himself into a crab and allowed himself to be carried, but he didn’t know whether there was any water inland, and he didn’t want to transform back into his normal form when there was no water around.

It was tedious, this _waiting._ He loathed every moment of it. There was no one to talk to, nothing to do. All the sea creatures that dwelled near shore were simple-minded and had nothing interesting to say. They just prattled on about the weather and the tide, or petty problems among the crab community. The juiciest gossip of the day was that Herman the Hermit Crab had taken up a new shell.

Loki swam farther out, keeping the ship in sight.

The humans had said they would be on land for the better part of three days, possibly four. That seemed like an eternity. Loki was already bored out of his skull. There was no one to have a decent conversation with, no one to pull pranks on.

Loki was extremely grateful when he spotted a pod of dolphins. They were chattering excitedly amongst themselves in overlapping phrases that Loki couldn’t quite make out. Once they were within reasonable speaking distance, Loki requested that they speak one at a time, because he could not understand them.

The dolphins ceased their chatter. The foremost one told him, in a voice brimming with eagerness, they had obtained a location on the Kraken.

Loki requested their information; they gave it to him freely, eager for whatever reward Loki would bestow upon them for this favor. Loki thanked them and requested that they inform him of any changes in location.

The dolphins swam away, chattering over top of each other, wondering what marvelous rewards awaited them.

On the one hand, Loki was disappointed that he’d lost the only decent conversationalists that he’d had that day. Dolphins were _so_ much smarter than humans.

On the other hand, second-hand adrenaline flooded his veins. He’d grown far too invested in these humans.

Loki swam towards shore, wondering if perhaps there was some way to tell them. He quickly gave up on this, however, and resigned himself to keeping watch for the humans’ return, and keeping an ear to the sea.

And so his waiting resumed.

* * *

Steve led their way bravely into the caves, torch held high overhead. Tony had made a comment about Steve’s height, but Pepper had stomped on his toes and Tony had cursed, Pepper had shushed him, and now Tony was limping melodramatically and pouting.

They searched the caves for hours, looking for anything that looked remotely vault-like. They found lots of rocks, stalactites, stalagmites, and bats. But “Where is the vault?” Steve muttered.

“Cave like a hog’s head, sir,” responded Jarvis promptly.

They all stared at Jarvis. Jarvis bobbed his head.

“Fucking bird,” Tony grumbled.

“I take offense to that, sir,” informed Jarvis politely.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’m _so sorry._ ”

“Where is the cave shaped like a hog’s head?” asked Peggy.

“Cave like a hog’s head,” repeated Jarvis. He ruffled his feathers and shook his head.

“All right,” announced Pepper, “Everyone outside.”

They found their way back outside and scrutinized around at the various cave formations around them. None of them looked anything like a hog’s head.

Then Steve got an idea. “Where’s the vault?” Steve asked Jarvis.

“Cave like hog’s head, sir,” Jarvis responded, staring off to the left.

Steve followed the parrot’s gaze. “That way,” Steve pointed with his torch.

They had to walk all the way around to the other side of the cave formations before they spotted the one that looked like a hog’s head.

Steve checked with Jarvis once more, to make sure they’d found the right cave.

Jarvis stared at the cave entrance ahead of them.

“You heard the parrot,” Steve said. He led the way into the cave.

This particular cave was very twisty and narrow on the inside; they had to proceed single file. Jarvis began clicking another odd rhythm to himself.

Tony sighed. “What’s he doing _now?”_

“Numbers,” Peggy responded. “He’s rattling off numbers. Probably the combination for a lock.”

“Brilliant,” Tony grumbled. “My parrot is a pirate.”

“We’re _all_ pirates,” Pepper pointed out.

“Yeah, but you _tell_ me stuff,” Tony complained.

Steve shushed them. They’d reached a fork in the path. He held up his torch. “Which way, Jarvis?”

“I do believe the vault is on your left, sir.”

Steve stepped to his left. “This way?”

“On your left, sir,” the parrot repeated.

Steve headed down the path on his left. Jarvis kept clicking out his rhythm.

The passage narrowed as they went on, until Steve was the only one who could comfortably fit through. He emerged into the chamber that opened up, large and cool and sparkling with crystals embedded in the cave walls. The chamber appeared to be empty.

“Guess this is the part where we start digging,” suggested Peggy.

“Guess so,” agreed Steve.

Unfortunately, they had not brought shovels. They had to use hands, shoes, rocks—whatever they could get ahold of.

Jarvis provided no more hints as to where in the chamber they ought to dig, so they all had to guess. Soon, the cave floor was riddled with holes and piles of sand.

Steve was digging with his hands, knees pressed to the cool sand. He was more-or-less in the middle of the chamber. He began to get frustrated, to wonder if this was all for naught. He wondered if he ought to be back on shore, or back on the “A”, so he could ask Loki if there had been any more information on Bucky. He was frustrated with himself for not being able to save him, frustrated that Bucky had lost his arm, and Daniel had lost his leg, frustrated that he’d lost his ship, frustrated that he had to lean on the charity of Tony Stark, frustrated that Howard hadn’t been more helpful, frustrated that he was kneeling in the middle of a cold, damp cave, digging with his hands for something which he wasn’t even sure he’d—

Steve’s fingers hit metal.

He drew back his knuckles and shook them, wincing. A split second later, his heart was in his throat.

He dug feverishly with both hands, uncovering a handle, then a door—he cried out.

Everyone scurried towards him and helped him unbury the door to the safe.

“What’s the combination?” he asked breathlessly.

“I’ve got it,” said Peggy. She turned the knob this way and that until the door opened.

The vault was filled with small wooden crates, all of which bore numbers.

“Which one is the serum?!” Steve pleaded.

Jarvis clicked out coordinates.

“Which box is the serum in?” Steve tried, heart sinking.

Jarvis cocked his head and clicked out the coordinates again.

“We’re just going to have to unbox them,” Peggy said.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for this chapter:  
> -needles

The cave floor was strewn with pried-open wooden crates. They’d found all sorts of things they hadn’t been looking for— canisters full of something which they hadn’t risked spraying, a vest packed with heating coils, something which glowed green and had three prongs, and looked sort of like a back massage tool, and tons of other things.

Peggy was the one who found the chest labelled ‘Project Rebirth.’ “That’s odd,” she remarked, “This one doesn’t have numbers on it.”

She pried open the chest. On top lay a thick stack of files, full of scientific jargon, diagrams, instructions, and various test results. Under the files was a set of golden vials, a mirror of some sort, and a set of syringe needles.

“Steve.”

Steve carried over the lightweight metal disc he’d just found. He liked the way it fit in his hand. It seemed to be some sort of shield.

“I think I found it.”

Steve’s blood froze. He leaned over Peggy’s shoulder and peered into the box. His heart pounded. “Yeah,” he said, “I think that’s it.”

They carried their treasure outside the cave—Steve didn’t care about the other inventions, he said the other pirates could take whatever they wanted—and Peggy read the instructions in the sunlight.

“First,” she said, sitting on a sun-warmed rock and hunched over a file, “we fill these syringes with what’s in the golden vials.”

Pepper set about doing so.

“Then what?” asked Steve breathlessly.

“This mirror—” Peggy held up the mirror. “Someone has to hold this mirror.”

Daniel held the mirror.

“Whoever is going to be injected, has to lay down.”

Steve settled himself down on the warm sand, face-up. “All right,” he said calmly, heart racing. “Now what?”

“All the syringes need to be injected at the same time.”

There were eight of them.

Pepper looked around. “That’s one for each of us.”

Peggy shook her head. “Someone will have to hold him down. It says here that this process is excruciatingly painful, could result in--,” Her eyes widened. She frowned. “Steve, are you _sure_ you want to do this?”

“I know the risks,” Steve promised.

“..All right,” Peggy said uncertainly. “-Thor? Dugan? Could you hold him down?”

Thor and Dugan obediently knelt beside Steve and held him down.

“I think the injections had better be left up to me and Pepper. And—Daniel, I trust you.”

Daniel nodded. “What about the mirror?”

“I can take that,” said Tony.

“I’ll take the other needles,” volunteered Bruce. “I used to be a doctor.”

“Very well.” They distributed the needles amongst themselves. “Tony, I need you to stand over top of us and aim that mirror at Steve. It’s going to amplify the sun’s light and focus it on him.”

“What should I do?” asked Clint.

“Hold his legs.”

They all took their positions. “All right,” ordered Peggy, “On the count of three. One… two… _three!”_

Eight needles stabbed Steve. Steve gritted his teeth in pain. Burning sensations spread from the injection sites. Steve felt as though his blood was on fire. He screamed and writhed.

“Should we stop?” asked Pepper.

Steve kept screaming. It was becoming difficult to hold him down.

“I think we should stop,” said Pepper uncertainly. She stared worriedly at Peggy.

“No, we— we have to finish the injections..” Pain was apparent in her voice.

“We don’t have to do this, Peggy,” said Daniel.

“Steve?” Peggy asked, tears cracking her voice. “Steve, do you want us to stop?”

“No!” Steve gritted. “I can do this!” Everything hurt. Everything was burning. But Steve was determined.

“You heard the man!” Peggy commanded. “Keep going!” Despite her conviction, her voice still cracked with tears.

Steve wasn’t sure what happened next. Searing pain, everywhere. His bones felt like they were boiling, his muscles tearing themselves apart. He knew he was screaming but he couldn’t stop.

He screamed, and he screamed, and he struggled with all his might against the pressure holding him down.

And then suddenly it was all over.

* * *

Steve opened his eyes.

Everything seemed brighter, sharper. Steve was seeing colors he never even knew existed. He sat up. Sitting up was surprisingly easy. He took a deep breath of air. His lungs filled obediently, without a trace of the rasp or the rattle they used to have.

Everyone was staring at him.

“What?” he said. His voice sounded the same, but his clothes felt too tight.

He looked down.

His clothes _were_ way too tight, and with good reason. Suddenly he had a physique that rivalled Thor’s.

Steve pushed to his feet. His view of the world was so different. He didn’t have to look up at everyone anymore; the only person taller than him was Thor. He was on eye-level with Dum Dum Dugan.

“How do you feel?” asked Peggy tentatively, eyes full of worry.

Steve looked around. “Taller.”

“You _look_ taller,” murmured Pepper, eyeing his chest.

“Amen to that,” agreed Daniel. “Can you give me some of that?” he joked.

“Unfortunately there was only one dose left,” Peggy informed him.

“Ah. That’s all right,” Daniel said with a crooked smile. “Next time.”

“Congratulations, Rogers!” Thor slapped Steve on his newly muscular back. “Was it not as I said?”

Steve smiled at Thor.

“When’s the part where his face melts off?” muttered Tony.

Pepper glared at him.

“What? That’s one of the side effects!”

“It’s a _potential_ side effect,” Pepper corrected. “And his face.. _did_ change..” Pepper eyed Steve’s jawline.

Steve frowned. “It did?” He felt his cheeks, his jaw. They didn’t _feel_ that different. He looked at his hands. His hands were now large and strong, as well. He turned to Peggy. “Do I look all right?”

“Son,” said Daniel, patting Steve on the arm. “‘All right’ is an understatement.”

“You can say that again,” Pepper breathed.

* * *

Being nearly an entire foot taller took some getting used to. Steve was sure it would feel less awkward once he was in clothes that fit. His clothes had hung from his frame before, always at least one size too big, but now they felt practically painted on.

What was even stranger was the admiring looks he was getting from nearly everyone.

Steve had never seen his body as desirable. It had been tiny, bony, pale, and slightly malformed. His scoliosis had twisted his lower back. His asthma had impeded his ability to do pretty much anything. He was sick half the time, though he always powered through it. He knew Bucky had admired him, had loved every inch of him no matter what, but he also knew that Bucky and the others had seen him as someone to take care of. Steve had never wanted that. He’d always believed himself capable and strong.

Now the others could see it too.

Steve _was_ strong, he _was_ capable.

And he was drawing some very heated glances from nearly everyone present.

The only person who _wasn’t_ looking at him like a delicious plate of their favorite food was Thor, who seemed delightfully oblivious to everything. Except for things like butterflies, or flowers, or the way sand felt underfoot.

Steve stuck close to Thor.

“You two should wrestle,” Tony suggested. “Try out your new muscles.”

Thor rumbled a loud laugh. “You think you could take me?” he asked Steve.

“I think I could try,” Steve returned.

“Do you boys need someone to oil you up?” Pepper offered.

“What am I,” Tony complained, “chopped liver?”

“I am more than willing to take you,” Thor replied to Steve.

Steve stripped out of his too-tight shirt. “Bring it on.” The two men circled each other, smiling, eyes sparking with challenge.

“Be careful, Steve,” Peggy fretted.

This only spurred Steve on further. “I’m not fragile,” he argued. He lunged at Thor, then feinted to the side. Thor laughed and spun Steve into a hold.

The pair tumbled onto the ground, twisting into and out of this hold and that, sometimes with Steve dominating, sometimes Thor. They were a tangled mass of elbows, knees, blond hair, and muscles. Steve delighted in the strength of his new muscles. A few times, he ended up on top of Thor, pinning him to the ground, or straddling him. Both were breathing heavily from exertion.

“I think I just got a little more gay,” Tony announced as Thor pinned Steve to the ground from behind.

“I think we all did,” said Daniel.

“Not me,” Clint volunteered. “I’m ace.”

Steve twisted out of the hold and pinned Thor’s wrists behind his back, straddling him.

“I am _so_ okay with this,” breathed Pepper, who had gone quite red in the face.

“Say uncle,” Steve grunted. Thor was struggling.

“Never,” Thor vowed. He flipped Steve over and rolled on top of him. _“You_ surrender!”

Steve let out a short, breathy laugh, panting. “I could do this all day.”

Pepper was fanning herself.

“Wait,” said Bruce. “You’re ace?”

“Yeah,” said Clint. “You know, like asexual? Not attracted to anybody in a sexual way? No desire for sex?”

“I know what it means,” replied Bruce quietly. “I am too.”

“Huh,” Clint said.

Tony screwed up his face incredulously. “There are people on Earth that _don’t_ want sex?!”

“I am _not_ one of them,” volunteered Pepper.

Thor beamed at her long enough for him to be distracted and allow Steve to pin him to the ground and hold Thor down to the count of ten.

Thor took his loss easily. He clapped Steve on the back. “You fought well!”

Steve grinned.

“I’m gonna,” said Pepper breathlessly, “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“Would the lady like some company?” Thor volunteered, smiling.

Pepper ogled him hungrily. “I don’t know if I can take any more of your company right now.”

Thor pouted, crestfallen.

Pepper backtracked. “No, it’s—Thor it’s not like that, I just—oh hell.” Pepper grabbed his hand and started walking. “Yeah, come with me.”

Tony stared after them. “You’re leaving me here with these scoundrels?!” he called after Pepper.

Pepper ignored him.

Bruce fiddled with his glasses. “I thought you liked me,” he said quietly.

Tony turned on his heel. “No, I do. You and Clint are… okay I guess. It’s _them_ I was complaining about!” He pointed at Steve, Dugan, Peggy, and Daniel. But mostly Steve.

“He’s just jealous, sir,” informed Jarvis.

“What! I am not jealous of Mr. High-and-Muscly over there!”

“It’s completely understandable if you are,” said Daniel.

Dum Dum offered Steve the shirt Steve had discarded. It was sweaty and full of sand.

“You know what?” Steve said. “I don’t think I want to wear that anymore.”

* * *

Pepper and Thor returned about an hour later, to a crackling fire, over which was roasting Clint’s latest kill. Pepper’s hair was mussed and she seemed a bit shellshocked. Thor was beaming ear to ear.

Tony’s eyes darted suspiciously between them. “Did you two—?”

“None of your business, Tony,” Pepper answered, sitting down on a sun-warmed rock. Her muscles seemed more relaxed than usual.

“We had a very nice walk,” Thor informed.

Tony’s eyes widened. “You totally _did_ didn’t you!”

“Tony,” Pepper warned.

Tony pointed an accusatory finger. “You’re not saying you didn’t!”

Pepper sighed.

Tony stood. “Holy shit you did! You’re usually _much_ angrier at me when I say anything about sex!”

Daniel frowned in surprise. “You had sex?”

“Daniel!” Peggy exclaimed.

“What does that word mean?” Thor said in what he probably supposed was a quiet voice to Pepper.

“Don’t worry about it,” Pepper replied with the same volume. “That’s not what we did,” she informed the group.

“But you did something! Holy shit! My best friend from childhood hooked up with a mermaid!”

Thor frowned. “I am not a mermaid.”

“Can we _please_ just talk about something else?” Pepper asked wearily.

“Yes,” said Peggy, “Are we going to take all of these inventions back to the ship, or just some of them, and how do we decide which ones?”

“And once we have them,” added Daniel, “what are we going to do with them?”

“We could sell them on the black market,” suggested Tony.

Pepper glared at him.

“What? They could fetch a lot of money!”

“I think we should keep them,” volunteered Bruce, “for scientific reasons.”

“You and your science.”

Bruce gave Tony a look. “Our entire friendship is based on a mutual love for science.”

“Yeah, I know. But still.”

Clint shrugged. “We could just take them all and decide what to do with them later?”

Glances were exchanged all around.

“Sounds good,” Steve said. He raised his flask of water towards Clint. They pretended to clink their flasks together across the bonfire.

And so it was settled. They would haul the treasure to the ship on the morrow.

* * *

Loki was waiting for them anxiously when the humans returned to the ship. “Steve,” Loki said in a desperate tone.

Steve paled. “Did you find him?”

“Sort of,” Loki answered. “I have obtained a location on the Kraken. But they’re moving, so their location is changing by the hour. They’re heading east.”

Steve’s heart pounded in his throat.

Loki frowned, taking in Steve in more detail. “I thought you were smaller.”

“I was,” Steve agreed. He exchanged tense, hushed conversation with Pepper, who nodded and clapped her hands together. “All right crew,” she announced. “Double time!” She took her three-point hat off Steve’s head and placed it on her own. She stared dramatically out at sea. “We’ve got a boat to catch.”

“They’ve found the Kraken?”

“Yeah, Peg,” Steve answered, pale. “They found him.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for utter chaos.

Bucky had learned that if he avoided eye contact, he could avoid getting raped.

He learned that if he let his mind go blank while they bludgeoned him black and blue, the pain receded into the background. Everything felt far away, and no one could touch him.

He healed much faster now. He wasn’t sure why, but he suspected it had something to do with the needles they kept poking into his arm and legs.

Sometimes he was rewarded for good behavior by being led around the ship with his hands shackled behind his back, and a rope around his neck. They led him around the ship by the rope, yanking so hard it choked him. No one trusted him, he could tell. But the captain seemed proud, happy that Bucky was cooperating now. Bucky filed away all the information he could for further use. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get out of here, but the more he played along, the more freedom he was granted.

The metal arm, he learned, was not altogether out of place on that ship. Several men had cybernetic enhancements, or had lost body parts which were replaced by cybernetic body parts and limbs.

Bucky had to force himself to go blank and uncaring, rather than spit back smart retorts, whenever they’d speak to him. He hung his head like a beaten dog and let them jeer at him all they wanted; he refused to give them what they wanted.

The captain seemed pleased with this.

Soon, Bucky was given better food. Better clothes.

He was bathed every so often, his chin given a shave. His hair was growing long and shaggy, but they didn’t care. Bucky didn’t care either. It’s not like it mattered how he looked anymore.

Most of the crew was extremely wary when the captain trained him to use a gun.

There were scattered complaints about how he was gonna kill all of them, how he couldn’t be trusted.

The captain rested his hand on the top of Bucky’s head. “You’re not going to kill any of my crew, are you,” he said.

Bucky said nothing, just stared blankly ahead.

“See?” the captain said. “Even the most stubborn and spirited of men can be broken. You just need to know which strings to pull. But the good news is that now that The Asset has been broken, we can start the process of rebuilding him again. We can shape him into exactly the kind of man we want him to be. And he’s going to cooperate with us every step of the way. Isn’t that right?”

Bucky said nothing, just looked at the ground.

“There’s a good boy.” The captain patted him on the head.

* * *

The sky was dark and stormy. The sea roiled underneath, bucking the deck this way and that. “Ship ahoy!” Clint called from the crow’s nest.

Rain spattered the deck. “It’s them,” Steve confirmed, holding Pepper’s spyglass.

“All right!” Pepper said. “Take your battle stations!”

Steve shook his head. “No!” Pepper frowned at him. “Last time we fought them,” Steve explained, “Only five people survived. My crew was full of good men. They all lost their lives. I can’ ask the same of you.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” answered Pepper. “Clint!” she called to the crow’s nest. “Do you have a clear shot?”

“Aye aye, cap’n!” Clint released the arrow he’d drawn back. It tore the mainsail on the Kraken.

Steve’s eyes widened. “How did you hit them from this distance?”

Clint shrugged. “Piece of cake. Want me to take another one?”

“As many as you please,” confirmed Pepper.

“All right,” said Clint. “But I’m gonna need more arrows.”

“I’ll get them for you,” volunteered Bruce. He scurried down the stairs.

Clint shot out the rest of their sails. The ship was within plain sight now, and tossing about wildly.

“I see him,” Steve declared, peering through the spyglass. He went pale. “I see Bucky.”

“Hold steady!” Pepper called to Dum Dum, who had taken the helm. “Hawkeye!” she called up to the crow’s nest. “Can you get a clear shot of any of them yet?”

“Not yet,” called Clint, peering down the shaft of another arrow.

Bruce scurried up the netting towards the crow’s nest, carrying another armful of arrows.

A warning shot cracked against their main mast.

“That was Bucky,” Steve said, heart pounding cold in his throat.

“Steve,” Pepper said, taking back her spyglass, “I’m sorry, but this is for your own good.” She pocketed it and took him by the shoulders. “Look, I know you’ve been through a lot, and I know this is going to be hard for you, but you need to prepare for anything, all right?”

“Bucky…” Steve said, staring at the approaching ship.

Pepper squeezed his shoulders. “Steve!” she said sharply.

Steve snapped out of it and met her eyes. He nodded.

Clint fired another arrow. A man fell overboard.

Bruce handed him the armful of arrows. “All right!” Clint said, grinning. “My man!”

More warning shots fired, but none of them ever hit anyone. Mostly they hit the masts, or boxes, or the side of the ship.

Meanwhile, Clint was taking men out one by one.

“Wait!” Steve screamed up at him. “You don’t know which one of them is Bucky!”

“You said he had one arm right?” called Clint. “None of those guys had one arm.”

Clint shot another arrow.

The ship was almost upon them now.

Bucky fired a warning shot past Steve’s shoulder. It grazed his sleeve, cutting a hot path through the material, before hitting the wall with a solid _thock_ behind him.

“All right,” Tony said, holding what Dum Dum had confirmed was probably an explosive, “Let’s see what these bad boys can do.”

Several men swung aboard. Clint shot a few down between the ships; they fell into the water. The rest swung aboard, until the Kraken was empty.

“Now, let’s be civilized about this,” advised Redbeard calmly, silver eyes cold. He was holding Bucky like a human shield. “We wouldn’t want you to have come all this way for nothing.”

“BUCKY!” cried Steve, lunging towards them.

Redbeard brought his sword to Bucky’s throat, Steve reached out for Bucky, Clint shot another arrow, Tony threw something, Bucky suddenly ducked out from under Redbeard’s arm and clenched his throat with his brass-and-bronze arm, lightning cracked, thunder boomed, and then suddenly the Kraken disappeared in a giant orange fireball, knocking the “A” sideways with shockwaves from the explosion. Clint clung to the crow’s nest. Bruce clung to Clint. Pepper clung to Dum Dum, who clung to the helm. Thor lost his footing and fell overboard. He grinned at Loki in the water. Loki asked “what was _that?”_ and Daniel held a sword to Redbeard’s back.

“Look out!” Peggy called, lunging at the man whose gun was aimed at Daniel.

“Bucky?” Steve asked, thrown off by his metal arm.

Bucky said something cruel in Russian and snapped Redbeard’s neck. He tossed him aside with his metal arm and glared at Steve.

Swords clanged.

And then suddenly the ship was pitching to one side, and giant green tentacles were curling onboard. The sea beast picked up every last pirate from the Kraken and threw them all overboard, crushing them as he went.

Bucky’s metal fist closed around Steve’s throat.

Steve clutched at the brass-and-bronze clockwork fingers.

The ship righted itself again. The sea monster deposited Thor gently on his feet and disappeared.

“Thank you, brother,” Thor said, seemingly to no one.

“Thor!” Pepper yelled. “Oh, Thor, you’re all right!” She ran to him and threw her arms around his waist. Rain pattered upon her face.

“Of course I am all right,” Thor said, encircling her with his massive arms. “I am the son of the sea king, am I not?”

 _“_ Ты оставил меня,”Bucky growled.

“Bucky-!” Tears filled Steve’s eyes.

“Is everyone all right?” Peggy called. Then, a bit later, she yelled, _“Daniel!”_

“Where’s Tony?” shouted Clint over the wind and rain.

Bucky’s metal fingers closed tighter around Steve’s throat. _“_ Выоставилименяумирать!”

“Bucky,” Steve sobbed, “I can’t understand what you’re saying!”

Daniel was on his back, eyes closed, clutching his chest. Peggy knelt beside him. Her hand was shaking.

Loki’s eyes widened. “Tony!” he shouted, swimming towards the half-conscious man limply clinging to a piece of smoldering driftwood.

“Кактымог?”Bucky growled. “Высказали, чтовылюбилименя!”

“Daniel,” Peggy sobbed.

“He’s injured,” Loki said quietly, not knowing what to do. “Tony--! Tony, please, don’t go!” This was the most awful time to forget everything he knew about human anatomy.

“Bucky,” Steve said with more breath than voice, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t know what they did to you, and I’m so sorry, but ever since I left, my only thought has been getting you back.” Steve could feel himself blacking out. Bucky was squeezing too tight.

“Get away from him!!” Dum Dum yelled, charging at Bucky. He barreled into him, knocking Bucky to the side. Bucky released Steve’s throat in surprise and set about trying to kill Dugan.

“Sorry, Cap,” Clint said, firing an arrow.

Bucky cried out.

“NO!!!!” shouted Steve.

“Daniel,” sobbed Peggy, pulling him into her lap.

“I— I must _do_ something!” Loki murmured, a sense of desperation filling him. He placed his hands against Tony’s chest, where his shirt was stained red with blood, and his hands began to glow as he muttered an incantation.

Daniel’s eyes opened. “Peg?” he croaked.

“Daniel!” Peggy exclaimed. She pulled him tight against her chest.

“Wow,” Daniel said quietly. “Those really do sting.”

* * *

“Steve?” Clint reached out a hand towards Steve’s shoulder. Steve shoved his hand away.

Bucky was face-down in a puddle of blood.

“Look man, I’m sorry. I thought he was gonna kill you, okay?”

Steve glared at him. “Okay? _Okay?!_ How could you _possibly_ think any of this is _okay?!”_

Clint held up his hands. “Okay. I know this looks bad…”

“He was just trying to save you,” Daniel said gently.

Steve didn’t care. He cradled Bucky’s limp body, sobbing into his back. “Bucky,” he whispered.

“Does anyone care that I almost died too?” asked Tony, whose chest now bore a glowing blue-green circle. “Because yeah, hi? I almost _died.”_

Pepper glared at him. Her arms were around Thor’s waist.

“I care,” Clint volunteered, raising a hand.

 _“Thank_ you,” Tony said.

“Why is your chest glowing?”

Tony shrugged. “Something Loki did. Some kinda mermaid magic. I don’t really get it either.”

“Bucky,” Steve whispered again, sniffling. He gently turned Bucky onto his back and stroked Bucky’s hair out of his face, cradling his cheek. He sniffled again and leaned down to press a gentle kiss against Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky’s eyelids fluttered open just as the sun came out from behind a cloud. “Steve?”

“Bucky!” Steve pulled him into a vicious hug and sobbed against his neck. “I thought you were dead!”

“I thought you were smaller,” Bucky returned, bewildered.

Steve laughed wetly against his neck.

Bucky shot wary, questioning glances around the circle of people watching them and held Steve cautiously. “You gonna tell me how you’re suddenly six feet of hunk?”

“The serum, Bucky!” Steve cried into his neck. “We found the serum!”

“Without me?”

“I’m sorry Bucky,” Steve apologized sincerely.

Bucky rubbed his back. “How long have I been out?”

Steve pulled back and sniffled. “Don’t know.” He smiled. “Not long.” He pressed his lips against Bucky’s again.

Bucky kissed him back cautiously. “You gonna tell me why I’m lying on my back in a pool of my own blood, or is that up to me again?”

“Sorry about that,” Clint apologized.

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face. “Dammit. I swore I wouldn’t let that guy get to me.”

“What guy?” Steve frowned.

Bucky’s mouth pulled to the side. “Creepy guy with a ring. Every time he told me to ‘focus’ I just kind of.. lost it, for a while.”

Steve shook his head, deciding that whoever it was didn’t matter anymore, because whoever it was, was dead. “Buck, I’m so glad you’re alive.”

Bucky smiled. “Me too.”

“Well this is all very touching,” Tony said, “and a little bit nauseating. Can we like, _go_ somewhere now?”

“Brilliant idea,” said Pepper. She smiled down at Steve. “Where to, Cap?”

Steve was in the middle of kissing Bucky again and really didn’t care where they went next.

“Um,” Clint volunteered, “I have an idea.”

Pepper turned curiously to him.

“It’s just, last time we were at port, we stayed at this hotel, right? And this drunk guy with long hair must’ve heard you call me Hawkeye, because he followed me to the elevator and kept insisting my name was Hawkins. And he gave me this treasure map.” He pulled the map out of his pocket.

“Treasure map!” Tony exclaimed. He scanned it greedily. “Did he say what kind of treasure?”

Clint shrugged. “Nah. Just said it was an honor to know my father. And then he died kind of suddenly, saying something about a black spot?”

Tony eschewed that part. “Who cares? Treasure! You in, Pep?”

Pepper smiled. “What do you say, Thor?”

Thor beamed. “Of course I am up for it! As long as I have the fair lady Pepper by my side.”

“The fair lady Pepper will _definitely_ be by your side,” agreed Pepper, giving his muscles an appreciative squeeze while she hugged him.

“Bruce?” Tony asked.

Bruce shrugged. “I go wherever you go. –What about Captain Rogers though? Are you guys coming?”

“I’m up for it,” volunteered Peggy.

Daniel smiled. “If she’s going, then I am too.”

“Steve?” Dum Dum asked. Then, louder, “Steve?”

Steve tore his lips away from Bucky’s and looked around, eyes unfocused. “Hmmm?”

“Treasure hunt?”

“Sounds great.” Steve kissed Bucky again.

“Okay, great!” Tony clapped his hands together. “Let’s get going!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Russian translations are as follows:  
> "You left me"  
> "You left me to die"  
> "How could you?"  
> "You said you loved me!"


	18. After-Credits Scene

Everything was going swimmingly. Edwin Jarvis had arrived precisely on time. He whistled a happy ditty as he strolled into the cave, steps light and even with a slight bounce to them. All the other vaults had remained undisturbed. He was certain that this one would be just as safe, untouched, and undiscovered.

Except when he stepped into the chamber, there were footprints everywhere. The sand had been disturbed, and lay in piles all over the place. And in a pit in the middle of the room, the vault door lay carelessly open.

“Oh dear!” Edwin Jarvis exclaimed. “I must inform Master Stark.”


End file.
